Live by the Sword
by Clement Rage
Summary: Think the Seeds had it tough during the game? Try being a Galbadian soldier. Canon compliant.
1. Trainee

_Hey, folks. This story is centred around an OC Galbadian Soldier, but please, give it a chance. His name is Zephon, stolen from the Legacy of Kain series because I have a little trouble with character names. Basically, it's the game from the point of view of the Galbadian military. One thing I'd like to make clear from the start, though – He does NOT fall in love with a canon character. Enjoy._

_I own nothing, of course._

**Training**

Zephon forced himself to look up, and managed to parry the stroke just before it split his skull. After eight hours in desert heat, with only blizzard spells to keep him hydrated, his technique was getting sloppy. His counter was cut aside easily, and he staggered back, trying desperately to keep his balance. His adversary was just as tired as he, but he was the better swordfighter. The battle had been fierce, and now they were the last. He retreated, trying to get distance between them so he could use his magic, but a Geezard burst out from under the sand and he fell. Ordinarily, his visor would have detected the creature, but heat signatures were impossible to discern in an environment where sun warmed sand could burn at a touch. On his back, he lost his sword, and feeling the creature's hot breath on his face, only his hands kept its jaws from his throat. They struggled for an instant, before a sword burst through the monster's chest from behind. Throwing the corpse at his saviour, Zephon rolled and retrieved his blade.

They faced each other, trying to divine intentions through the inexpressive Galbadian military visor. However, in the army for a time, one got very good at reading the adversary's jawline, particularly if the speaker was someone you knew. Both were too tired to trust their talents, so Zephon decided to try another method.

"Thanks for that."

His opponent shrugged, maintaining his guard. "You're welcome. But don't thank me too soon."

Zephon allowed amusement to touch his voice. "Why not get some more clichés out of the way while we're at it?" As he spoke, he was watching for the smile that would signpost a drop in his adversary's guard. "It's time to end this, right here, right now!"

"You want it, come and get it!" _Damn, he's on to me._

"I'll do whatever you want, just let the girl go."

The mouth opened slightly. "What? What girl?" Zephon lunged, but the opening wasn't quite enough to get him a kill, as his adversary cut aside the strike, and countered with a strike that dented Zephon's shoulder plate. "What girl?"

This time Zephon's smile was real. "Did you have one in mind?"

"Oh, you prick. That was mean." He feinted, then suddenly shrieked "It used to be about the music, man!"

Zephon couldn't help but laugh, and was almost undone by his own trick. At the last instant, he forced his opponent to dive aside from a Thunder spell. But he was up instantly and the clash of blades sent Zephon over backwards, rolling down the side of his dune. The other soldier followed at a run, aware distance would work to Zephon's advantage as far as magic went. But halfway down, part of the side of the dune collapsed under his feet, revealing six soldiers dressed in black beneath him. Zephon, his roll somehow having avoided the trapdoor, sprinted back up the side of the dune.

Inside the secret room, the other Galbadian trainee had landed on one of the mysterious strangers, eliminating one of them and cushioning his fall. As he landed, he swung his sword at the nearest, cutting into the back of his shin and dropping him. A Thunder spell from Zephon took care of a third, and a subsequent leaping slash brought down the fourth. Ordinarily, the thunder would have exploded his head, but in the magic dampening field, it served only as a knockout.

Zephon and his previous opponent glanced at the two surviving black clad soldiers. They'd done a good job of cutting down the odds, but these new soldiers were fresh, and the Galbadian trainees were both exhausted. It wouldn't be a contest. Zephon sighed, and took a casting stance. (The stance wasn't actually necessary, but most casters had habits of practice).

"Blizzard!" But his target was quicker.

"Reflect!" The unformed spell was repelled by the barrier and thrown straight back at him, but in casting his defence, the ambusher dropped his guard, and Zephon's erstwhile ally lunged across and tapped the other soldier on the throat with the flat of his sword. The soldier collapsed, while his companion took advantage of the Galbadian's wild lunge to attack his exposed side. Zephon, meanwhile, threw his hands up to shield himself from the crushing ball of ice that was his own spell. Nonetheless it hammered him into the ground and his legs gave way. Stunned – the increased strength from the Reflection had cancelled out the magic dampening, Zephon checked the health bar at the corner of his vision. The bare minimum. Perhaps it was best to stay down.

His opponent, then ally, put up a spirited fight, but the other soldier was fully qualified and fresh to battle. Eventually, the other Galbadian trainee dropped. When the victorious soldier sheathed his sword, Zephon arose and swung as hard as he could into the back of his helmet with the flat of his own blade, subsequently hitting his knees from sheer exhaustion.

"And that's time. Congratulations, Zephon Schwert, the last man standing." The various 'dead' people began clambering to their feet at the speaker's announcement.

His final opponent, Trevor, raised his head. "Trust you to play dead."

Zephon spread his arms. "Oh, come on, I took a hit for you."

"Scheming. You set me up!"

"I thought we were finished with the clichés?"

"..."

"Guess we'd better head back."

_Later..._

Zephon's training unit stiffened as the red clad officer approached. Eight of the ten were now full member s of the Galbadian armed forces. There was no jubilation at the announcement. After the devastation of the Sorceress War, nobody held any illusions about life in the military, but they had joined, each for their own reasons, and after the final exam, were now expected to follow the orders they were given. From the officer's heavy step, they were unlikely to be about to hear good news.

"I'm really sorry to be the one to tell you this folks, but I've just received communications from higher up. You're all to have a week's leave, on double wages, but report to the presidential residence at 1800 hours on this day next week for your assignment."

Only a week's leave was a little irritating after three months of heavy training, but there had to be more to it than that to provoke such a reaction from their officer. Sandra, who Zephon remembered 'killing' early in the exam, was the only one who dared to speak "What's the assignment?"

The officer sighed. "We're going to war." He turned on his heel and left, aware of the newly inaugurated Galbadian soldiers staring after him in total silence.


	2. Brother

_A Thrustaevis is a four winged bird/pterodactyl monster common in the game. Since you can call a girl Robin, I decided, why not?_

_Marcus isn't abusive, but he gets depressed easily._

**Homecoming**

The journey home was a sobering one. Few of them spoke. A train full of soldiers is never exactly an enjoyable ride, but this... Any onlooker clinging to the outside might have noticed heads buried in hands and continual sighs. The carriages rattled, but nobody paid them any heed.

Galbadia was a cynical nation. Once, there had been queues at recruiting stations, eager to counter the abuses of Estharian insurgents, but after the beating both army and nation had taken against Adel, no one was eager for war. Many had joined the army expressly because Deling might well be torn apart if he so much as suggested armed conflict.

Thrustaevis, Zephon's rather unfortunately named twin sister, was waiting for him at the station. A common topic of conversation between them was a debate over which of them had the worst name. He schooled his expression, before stepping off the train.

"Hey." The taint of the Deling City air brought him back to himself, welcome after so long breathing in the parched desert. Closing his eyes for an instant, he soaked up the familiar atmosphere. It felt good to be home. Returning his sister's hug, he shouldered his bag and the pair of them headed towards the escalator.

"So...how was training?" She was looking at him, searching for any major disfigurements. He wasn't aware of any major differences, but then, he wouldn't. He knew he'd gained some muscle since she'd last saw him, a byproduct of wearing battle armour, and probably lost some weight through dehydration, but he hadn't lost limbs or gained too many scars. He examined her in turn, and as expected, found tension in the eyes. The smile was genuine, but there was something of prior stress behind it. Otherwise, she was more or less as he remembered, a slightly smaller version of himself with longer hair and a slighter build. They shared green eyes and black hair, a sarcastic sense of humour, and the ability to arch both eyebrows individually.

He let himself sigh.

"It was tough...but worthwhile. I feel a lot stronger now than I did. How's Dad?"

She looked away. "You know how he is. He took it badly."

"More than usual, you mean?" At her nod, he sighed again. "Mannequin?"

"Ash."

"Damn. What's he using now? Not you?"

"No. Monsters. He goes hunting with a few friends and they take down a few each. He wants a decent magic stock to hand if you need it."

"_Hunting?_ I hope they take good care of him."

"He's an adult, Zephon, and he's the best spellcaster of them all. Don't be patronising, you know he hates that."

"I'm sorry. But..."

"I know. It's hard. Have you been worried?"

"Not really. I've been too busy to think. I was terrified about you having to take the backlash."

"Don't worry about it. I was the one who told you to, wasn't I?"

"Wait a second; we reached that decision together. It made sense."

"Made? Has something changed?"

_Oh, God no. __**That **__quickly?_

Luckily, at that stage the bus arrived, and the conversation was disrupted. Taking their seats behind the driver – at this hour of the morning, there was plenty of space−, they didn't speak immediately. Smiling as usual at the mildly amusing sign (PLEASE DO NOT DISTRACT THE DRIVER FOR SAFETY REASONS WHILE THE VEHICLE IS IN MOTION), they then spent some time theorising as to what had happened to put it there. Thrustaevis favoured a struggling troupe of musicians, while Zephon believed it was a stage magician. But the unspoken topic remained heavy on the air.

After their father, Marcus Schwert, had been injured in battle, he'd been given an honourable discharge, but due to the nature of his wounds, new employment was difficult to come by. There were supports in place, but once his children turned eighteen, they'd lose the two portions of child benefit which had been feeding and clothing his family. Marcus still had considerable ongoing medical expenses which the Galbadian military would no longer pay for, which left them in a quandary. It had been his children who'd secretly devised a solution.

After the slaughter of the Sorceress war, no one wanted to join the army, and recruiting became virtually impossible. The only way Galbadia had been able to keep its numbers at adequate levels was to drastically increase the payments and benefits for the Galbadian military to unprecedented levels, far beyond what they had ever been in Marcus' army days. Even with that, they still had to supplement their numbers with mechs and monsters. But the armed forces were the only tangible employment a person without any skills, trade, or qualification could go to get the level of ready cash necessary to keep the Schwerts going. So Thrustaevis and Zephon had flipped a coin one night, and he'd lost. He'd serve a two year term, get the military pension, and then go home and take care of Marcus while Thrustaevis went on to study something that was well paid enough to carry them all into the future.

There was silence for a time. Her thoughts were probably similar to his, so he didn't interrupt. The bus travelled on, past the borders of Caraway's mansion and through the shopping arcade. Eventually losing patience, Zephon decided to change the subject.

"Anything happen around here lately?"

She looked up.

"Couple of hockey matches and a Triple Triad tournament. And General Caraway's daughter is going out with−"

"Thrustaevis, I don't care if she's going out with Vinzer fucking Deling!"

"You asked. He's just some student from Balamb. Jealous?"

He couldn't help but laugh. Well, it'd brought her out of dark thoughts, so he'd pursue the topic.

"Damn! Found out! I was just about to declare undying love! Guess I'd better postpone the break in."

"You never know, hovering outside the window seems to be a popular approach. There's a guard at the gate these days, though, ever since he briefly kidnapped her and took her clubbing."

That certainly got his attention. "What happened?"

"Naturally, Daddy called out a third of the city garrison and set them searching. Nobody was killed, but a couple of soldiers caught some nastyish wounds when they cornered the pair of them. He got out of the city in a hurry, and Rinoa was so furious she went back to Timber."

"You're making this up."

"Ask around, once you get assigned. The entire army was livid; they thought she'd really been kidnapped."

Zephon considered various replies, but decided to split his sides laughing instead. It didn't occur to him that she might be trying to lift his spirits too.

The bus reached their building. The conversation lagged again. This time, there was a slight tension in the air as the lift ascended.

"He home?"

"He was when I left. But you never know. How long're you here?"

"A week."

"Emm...right. Well... You'll probably have some explaining to do, so you might as well tell me now. What's wrong?"

He hesitated. "Military secret." Her hands went to her mouth instantly, and he realised that had been a mistake.

"Come on, say it, you have me worried enough as it is. You can trust me." He could, but that wasn't the problem.

"...In a week's time, I have to report to the presidential residence for extended manoeuvres...and they're not in Galbadia."

She turned to stare at him.

* * *

Marcus was at home, in his chair, aiming fire spells at a stewpot from across the room. His skill with magic had become very precise in the last fifteen years, compensating for his injuries. He could probably rival a Seed in skill, if not power. So Aero opened doors, Sleep put his children to bed, Fire cooked food, and Thunder powered electrical devices. They'd been cut off by the electricity company long ago, once Marcus realised a single Thundaga could power all their appliances for several hours, provided they weren't too extravagant. One of the few privileges he still had as a veteran was the right to wander into a military base and take his pick of their stocks of magic (within reason, of course).

He looked up as his children entered.

"Back, are you?" The door slammed behind them, the lights flared and the wooden kitchen chairs shifted slightly. He had developed a taste for dramatics, probably to prove he was still a force to be reckoned with. They sat down, and he caught their faces. Float spells set the table and poured the stew. They knew better than to intervene.

"So what's wrong? Was training _that_ tough?" You couldn't keep secrets either, because Scan spells could find them.

"No, it was fine, but my new assignment is... tricky."

"Don't play games, you know I can find out if I want to. I still have friends in the army."

"We're going to war." The bowls crashed down on the table. "What? Where?"

"I'm not allowed to say it...but in a completely unrelated topic, what do you know about Dollet?"

"Dollet? Ok, that's not so bad, I thought you were going to say Esthar. Dollet...mountain town on the coast, infantry not great but a pretty good navy, tough to attack because of all the cliffs though. The city'll probably fall pretty quickly, but the hard part will be rooting them out of the mountains. The place is full of tunnels, and the seat of the Dukedom Parliament is an underground fortress. If you try and get yourself posted in the city, you should have a decent chance."

While he was far from pleased with the turn of events, there was a certain light in Marcus eyes, long dormant military instincts delighted at being some use once again. He stood up.

"Come with me." Following his father into his room, Zephon found him pointing at a case about a foot square. "Pick it up. Carefully." The fact that he wasn't using Float spells gave the moment more gravity, and Zephon picked up the box, very carefully. He arched an eyebrow at his father, who nodded, and then opened it, revealing a dull, unremarkable appearing knife.

"What's that?"

"It's called a Chef's Knife. What do you know about Tonberries?"

"Not much. They're dangerous, and native to Centra."

"They carry those things. If you stab somebody with it, no matter who they are, and draw blood, your target drops dead. Sorceress, Seed, soldier, all of them. Just don't cut yourself."

Zephon carefully closed the case. "Where'd you get it?"

"Adel's knight had it. The paramedics gave it to me afterwards. You know what happened."

Zephon did.

_Sorceress Adel advanced at the head of her army, Galbadians fleeing before her. The woman merged to her chest was shrieking, unheard in all the chaos of battle. The War had lasted years, but Adel had finally tired of playing games and took to the field herself._

_Five Galbadian soldiers, however, couldn't flee. They were crouching in a crater gouged out of the landscape by an earlier Firaga, and couldn't flee without exposing themselves to Adel's mercy. She wasn't renowned for granting it. Unfortunately, she was advancing directly onto their position, and they couldn't hide long._

"_I don't see why we can't just shell her, she's standing right there!" one of them hissed. "Why'd we build that missile base if we weren't going to use it?"_

"_You know why. That's a Galbadian civilian she'd using as a shield. Low trick, I know, but we can't just blow her to pieces, even if we could get past her Protection."_

"_There'll be a hell of a lot more civilians at risk if we just let her be. We're losing, and we give up here, nothing stops her moving on to the Capital. You know what she does to captured towns."_

"_What do you want to do about it? You want to charge her, be my guest!"_

_Marcus Schwert obliged. He was no more than twenty feet from her at this point, and Adel drew back, astonished, as the single soldier burst up from almost under her feet. Her knight stepped in between them and the newcomer, sword in one hand, dagger in the other, but Marcus' squad were embarrassed by his sudden charge, and the knight dropped to a burst of automatic gunfire. Marcus kept running, and no other guards were quick enough to reach her. He took a flying leap and drove his sword through the heart of the shrieking civilian melded into her body, silencing her for good. His sword went through the victim and into Adel, who shrieked as the blade pierced her own body. _

_Between that and the sudden death of both her knight and her human shield, both of whom she had been drawing strength from, her half formed Flare spell rebounded on herself, sending her up like a torch. The sword thrust through her chest melted, cauterising her wound open and preventing any quick fix a Curaga might provide. Adel, autocratic sorceress ruler of Esthar, toppled backwards like a tree. Seeing this, the battered, angry and vengeful Galbadian army charged, heedless of danger, aware they might not get another chance. Adel's army, in the field largely through fear of her, broke and fled at seeing their leader humbled. Marcus howled, on his knees nearby. He'd still been holding on to his sword when the Flare struck, and he'd lost both his arms to the elbow._

_Adel rose up onto her elbows, watching the entire Galbadian army charging her. She hesitated, and then turned away with mortars impacting around her._

They drove the Estharians back two hundred miles before their lines held. At their own nation's borders, Esthar threw up impenetrable barriers, but they'd left half their army dead on the field, and didn't have the resources to continue the war. Adel had survived, her genetic enhancements and sorceress abilities together ensuring that a mere sword through the heart wasn't a killing stroke. But she'd shown her nation that she could lose a battle, that she wasn't immortal. A resistance formed quickly, and a few months later they assassinated Adel themselves.

As for Marcus, the Galbadian Army wasn't quite sure what to do with him. He'd probably won them the war... but he'd run through a civilian to do it. So end the end they gave him an honourable discharge on medical grounds and a few inadequate prosthetic limbs.

Zephon looked up at his father, aware that he had far more experience of battle. Hopefully, he wouldn't need to catch up.

"Any advice?"

Marcus hesitated, scratching his forehead with his stumps.

"Don't make history. It's never worth it."


	3. Invader

For best effects, please listen to 'The Landing' while reading this.

**Invader **

Zephon kept himself as busy as possible over the next week, avoiding thinking about his future. There was plenty to do –Thrustaevis was glad of the help, as despite his magical skills, there were some things Marcus just couldn't do. A downside to this was that the week passed all too quickly, and he found himself at the presidential residence before he was quite prepared. Too much time, and not enough. Marcus didn't escort him, as he didn't want his officers to be biased (or discriminatory) towards him as he had a famous name. Thrustaevis came with him to the Residence, uncharacteristically subdued. Just before he was called forward to the troop transport, she bizarrely wrapped her arms around his neck, lips to his ear.

"Don't you dare get hurt," she whispered, her grip tight. "Neither of us will ever forgive ourselves if you don't come back."

"Noted" Zephon replied, prising her hands free. She believed she'd gotten him into this. Guilt would haunt them both. "I'll be back."

The doors slammed shut behind him.

* * *

Trev was in his unit, but the others weren't. New trainees were always split up in pairs, so that they'd have someone familiar to help them gain their bearings, but a single well aimed artillery shell couldn't destroy all their anchors to reality. After introductions to the others –they were assigned in squads of twenty, but the only name he immediately registered was that of his immediate superior, Dellian Harris. He wasn't quite old enough to be a veteran of the Sorceress War, but his experience would still stand to him. Officers in the Galbadian military had a high casualty rate. Stocked with curatives, they were trained to keep their subordinates alive, and often did so at cost to themselves, leading to charge to ensure they were available to aid faltering soldiers. As such, they were supplied with heavier armour than the standard infantrymen, but often that would not be enough. Officers were known to ignore their own fatal wounds in order to heal underlings.

While this practice left the Galbadian military officers in a dangerous career, it also bred the kind of soldiers with intense loyalty to their superiors, willing to die to protect them and following their captains into the eye of the storm. Senior military officers, while no longer expected to lead the charge, had once been junior military officers, and as such were awarded the same loyalty. Deling himself was a veteran of the War, and while few soldiers outside his personal bodyguard held him in such regard, he was at least respected for his military days. The mutual bond meant that the Galbadian army had the lowest casualty rate of any military force on the planet, with the notable exception of the Junctioned Seeds.

The Seeds were a mercenary organisation striking from a secret location, a constant thorn in Galbadian sides. Circumstantial evidence linked them to Balamb, but nothing so concrete as to warrant a direct assault. They had incredible power at their fingertips due to the junctions they carried, Elemental Guardian Forces which unleashed devastating attacks on those that barred the way. Usually Galbadians. It had once been suggested that the G-Army should equip junctions of its own, but the proposal had been vetoed due to the known side effect of long term memory loss. As a Galbadian officer had put it 'My memories or my life? My memories _are_ my life!" And there the matter had rested, leaving Galbadia at a distinct disadvantage whenever conflict arose.

The troop transport trundled at speed towards what was soon to be a battle ground. Zephon, braced for battle, suddenly realised he had time to spare. It'd take time to reach Dollet over land. He settled in to wait, wondering if he should try and get to know soldiers he wasn't sure would survive the day. He elected to sit in silence, not even speaking to Trev.

As their destination neared, Dellian stood up, stepping out in front of the twenty strong squad.

"Everyone listening? Not long to go now. As you all shouldn't know, but probably do, we're heading to Dollet. It's possible they know we're coming, in which case we'll face heavy resistance. Invaders are always at a disadvantage, as people fight for their homes. Dollet infantry aren't renowned for their military ability, but complacency kills. Don't take anything for granted. Stay on your toes.

"We have a four day window to get the Dollet army out of the city. I don't know why, but that's very important. That means we need to strike hard and fast, keep them running if we can. If we let house to house battles develop, the time frame is shattered, the city takes damage, and civilians get caught up in combat. I do _not _want to see a corpse not in a Dollet uniform, do you hear me? That said, if a five year old picks up a machine gun, and you've _absolutely no other option,_ take him down. Don't die by being over chivalrous.

"We have two rookies with us today folks, and I want you all to look after them, unless they do something so stupid that you have to put yourselves at risk. Take care of each other. Only corpses get left behind. And I want you two to pull your weight, boys, don't make me wait for you." The thrum of the engine changed, slowing down.

"When those doors open, you will be in battle. Dollet infantry favour machine guns, so stay in cover or behind Protection as much as you can. Most of our first wave is heading for Dollet Harbour, because if the navy gets launched they could put us in real danger, but our squad has another objective. We have to establish somewhere we can regroup after the initial wave. We need to secure a staging post, some public building like a hotel or shopping centre that we can use as a command post. It can't be a civilian home, we won't have enough space. Keep your eyes open for some building we can use. After the initial wave, Dollet are going to retaliate in full force, so we have to have a secure line where we can make a stand. Once that's achieved, I'll talk about our next objective. Now...move!" The doors of the transport lorry snapped open as the soldiers surged to their feet.

_How did he choreograph that? _Zephon wondered briefly, but soon he had more pressing concerns.

* * *

A Dollet soldier was staring sightlessly at the sky under the entrance archway, blood at his temple, but Zephon was running too quickly to register many details. Soldiers were working on the arch, trying to find a compromise wherein they could prevent it closing in the short term but still find it of use in the event of a Dollet counterattack. A terrified girl crouching behind a car rental was the first thing he noticed, and skidded to a halt.

"S- So if you, like, rent a –"

"Do I look like I'm here to go sightseeing? Look, get out of here, go home, and hide, okay?" He drew his sword. "Move!" She fled, small calibre handgun in hand but had the sense not to use it. With all the monsters in the world, almost everyone over ten years old carried weapons. Zephon picked up speed, not wishing to delay his squad, some of whom were waiting.

"Very gallant, but now's no time for flirting, my friend!"

"Fuck you!" Zephon, as one of the younger of the soldiers, soon caught up with the others. Apparently, the Dollet army hadn't really been expecting their attack. There'd been no more than the usual gate guards, hardly proof against an entire Galbadian Army. There were even still civilians on the streets, most of whom turned to flee upon seeing the tide of running soldiers. Those who fell were merely leapt over, although Zephon stopped yet again as an elderly man struggled towards the side of the street.

"Get inside, Grandad!" He threw the citizen through the nearest door, sealing the lock with a quick Blizzard. Noble nature satisfied, Zephon continued on his way. The harbour could be seen to his left, and here the Galbadians were attempting to swarm the Dollet's merchant fleet, meeting their first substantial resistance. Tempted though he was to help, he remembered his duty and followed the rest of the squad past the harbour. They reached a stairs leading down to a beach, but Dellian gestured them on.

"This's a bad place to be if the navy starts shelling. Keep moving!"

The civilians were thinning as word spread. But that meant sooner or later the military would rally and begin counterattacking in force. As they rounded another corner, Zephon saw his first living Dollet soldiers, standing on a catwalk over the street. There were only two of them, but their machine guns were primed and ready.

"Down!" Dellian, now behind them, screamed. The soldiers obliged, knowing the Dolletians were out of sword reach. As the officer's sub machinegun took down the first soldier, Zephon raised one of his hands

"Thunder!" The other Dollet soldier exploded, blasted backwards off the catwalk by the bolt. Zephon hesitated, staring at the body. He'd never cast it on anyone outside a magic dampening field before. The damage that could be done to an unprotected body was−

"Watch it!" A bullet sparked off the wall beside him, and he turned. Another Dollet soldier, this one with a rifle, was standing at an upstairs window at the opposite side of the street. It had been an abominable shot not to hit anyone. The Dollet military really were poor. That said, Zephon was disinclined to give him another chance.

"Thunder!" But this time it was different. The soldier was standing inside a building, under a roof. The lightning bolt hit the windowsill, cracking it, and there was a pained scream, but it wasn't an incapacitating strike. The rifle was quickly levelled again.

"Fire!" The fire, being a line of sight attack, could reach the sniper through the window. A charred lump collapsed through the broken window into the street. Zephon nodded thanks to the soldier who'd cast the spell.

Dellian had stopped before the door beneath the catwalk.

"This'll do. Protect!"

The blue shield formed in front of him, and the locked door crashed inward under his armoured gauntlet. Immediately, his shield was peppered with automatic gunfire as a line of soldiers crouched behind the bar facing the door opened fire. He swept his own gun across, bringing some of them down, but others ducked in time. More Galbadians slipped in behind him, exposing themselves to enemy gunfire, but a fire spell behind the bar exploded several casks, and the survivors surrendered. Once the blaze had been extinguished, the Galbadians were then directed upstairs, where several terrified civilians crouched. Two Dollet soldiers were also there, but they surrendered without battle. Disarming and securing the others, the prisoners were all entreated to "Sit down and shut up!" while most of the soldiers went back downstairs. Dellian was sitting on the now charred bar.

"Anyone hurt?" There were scrapes and flesh wounds, but nobody required a Cure. The red armoured officer smiled.

"Not a bad start, but there's worse to come. Folks, this place seems secure. Zephon, Paul, Gillian, and Dan, head back to the harbour and lend a hand if it's needed. Find out what's going on. I want ten of you here to keep this place in our hands. The rest of you, start blocking off the streets, we'll need to weather the counterattack, and there's no need to make it easy for them. We need to secure the harbour before we commit to taking the Central Square. The Dolletians will be on the roofs and at the windows, so keep your eyes open. If anyone's seriously hurt, you know where I'll be."

Zephon and the other three moved as directed, sprinting across the exposed section leading to Lapin Beach, as a nearby signpost proclaimed it. At the harbour, the battle was dying down, but the Dollet military were fighting back, aware the boats were their best tactical advantage. Upon seeing fresh soldiers, an officer directed them onto the closest battle. The cramped quarters made swordfighting difficult, but magic helped. Running into one of the last uncaptured boats, Zephon found himself in the vanguard as two soldiers passed carrying an injured colleague. Thunder was of limited value below decks, and as Zephon rounded a corner, he found himself facing a Dollet soldier. With no space to swing his blade, Zephon lunged with his bare hands, the fire bursting from his palms throwing his adversary backwards. It wasn't his strongest technique, but the dazed soldier was knocked to his knees as Zephon drew his sword. He might not be able to swing, but he could still stab. He drew back...and hesitated.

"What's your name?"

"Gareth." The soldier tried to draw his secondary handgun, but Zephon ran him through, the shock of the impact running up his arm. He hit his own knees, the dying man nose to nose with him. He withdrew his blade and drew back just enough to avoid his kill spitting blood all over him. Taking a moment to retrieve the handgun, aware it might come in useful, he rounded another corner. Here, a Dollet soldier was facing away from him, fighting two Galbadians. Grabbing the enemy, he wrapped one arm around their neck and brought his sword up.

"Name?"

"Jennifer," she whispered, and he slashed her throat. The other two soldiers were suddenly staring at him, and he pushed past them. Not hearing fighting elsewhere on the boat, he returned to the decks, to find the battle for the harbour over. Galbadians were taking the boats out into the bay, and ... sinking them?

"What's going on?"

A soldier behind him paused. "We've just taken the Dollet merchant fleet. The naval fleet is a much more secure dock. We can't take it, not without horrific casualties, but we can't have them deploying soldiers into the city behind us. So we sink the merchant fleet in the bay, and the warships can't cross them without tearing out their keels. If we do it right, they won't even be close enough to shell the city."

"Makes sense. Tough on the civilians though."

"A war is no place for military ethics, kid! Haven't you somewhere to be?"

"Oh, yeah. " He headed back to the bar, neither running nor strolling. He intended to check his Thunder victim's dog tags on the way back, but the charred mess was gone. His first kill would remain nameless.

Dellian was waiting, healing another soldier's forearm gash.

"You're late. How're we doing?"

"Harbour's ours. What about you?"

"Meh. The Dollets finally rallied. We're holding so far, but they got in one of their mechs before we finished sealing the roads. It's not even close to the Widow's standard, but we're trying to keep him a surprise, so we need to deal with it on our own."

"What kind of machine is it?"

"Some kind of modified street sweeper, and it's doing a pretty good job of driving us before it. Metal plated, flamethrower and machine guns mounted on the back. Four casualties so far, none of mine, thank Hyne. Ideas?"

"Wheeled?"

"Yep. It's no use in the mountains. What are you thinking?"

"Turn it over?"

"Too heavy. We don't have any artillery to hand, and swiping the thing with swords doesn't even dent it."

"Any other news?"

"Well, about half of the city's ours, but with that machine in the way, we can't stage to take the Central Square. The Dolletians know we'll demolish them in a pitched battle, so what's left of them are on the roofs sniping, trying to chip at our numbers, or upstairs in people's homes. They've got a confirmed command post in the hotel, but it's going to be a bitch to take. The roofs are crawling with Dollet soldiers, and if we try crossing the Square we'll be sniped from three sides."

Dellian suddenly looked at him with more interest. "Hang on...you're the kid with the Thunder Magic, hm?"

Zephon didn't like the look in his eyes.


	4. Skulker

_**Regards to Licoriceallsorts for reminding me this existed.**_

**Skulker**

Despite not much liking the officer's tone, Zephon knew he wouldn't get away with a lie.

"That's me, sir."

"Why Thunder? Why not Fire?"

"Fire's a line of sight attack. Someone sees it coming and dodges. People aren't as inclined to look up..."

"And if someone is crouched behind...a chimney, say, you'd be able to hit him?"

"Probably."

"How're your stocks?"

"Twenty nine Thunder, Three Fire."

"Should be enough to raise some hell. Stay here, I'll scrounge up a squad and let the other commanders know what I'm doing. Get something to eat upstairs."

"Um...what are you doing, sir?"

"You're going out on the rooftops, make those Dollet snipers sweat. Good luck."

_I hate you._

He went upstairs. The captives had been moved to the building's cellar, and the upstairs lounge was full of soldiers. Mostly blue armoured infantry, but more than one red officer. A pair of green elites stood guarding a door which, if Zephon remembered correctly, headed to the catwalk outside.

The lounge's card tables had been set with paper plates, piled high with standard bar food fare. Zephon moved towards an unoccupied chair.

"Hold it!" He looked up, to find himself the focus of the room's attention. He saw teeth under several visors, upturns in mouth corners. An officer had spoken, and now continued. 'I wouldn't touch that if I were you."

"What, it's reserved for Major Biggs?"

The officer smiled. "Nope, just laced with a few choice emetics. You want to spend the next hour puking your guts out, fine by me."

"Not poisoned, sir?"

"Poisons have antidotes. Plus there's always the chance that some green Galbadian kid on his first campaign wanders in and takes a mouthful..."

"Thanks, sir."

_Dell, you bastard._

"You're thanking me? If you had taken that mouthful, we'd have to take you out of the city..."

"..."

"Stupid kids, eager for the frontline," someone muttered in the crowd of soldiers. Covering his serial number, Zephon went back downstairs.

He eventually _did_ get something to eat, albeit nothing as appetising as the treats arranged in the lounge. Still, the nutritious but tasteless army rations replaced some of the energy he'd lost in the first assaults, and his next objective wasn't likely to be quite so strenuous. He'd ascended from the bar's catwalk to the rooftops along with four other soldiers stocked with Protect − not a full squad after all. They had orders to traverse Dollet's rooftops –in itself not an easy task- and disarm or disable as many Dollet sharpshooters as possible. And he, who had never been in a real engagement until this evening, had been given command. Somehow.

He'd never met his bodyguards prior to their introductions, and given that their assignment relied on stealth, there would not be much opportunity to get to know them better. There was Tess, who was about his age, had a very light step, and shiny teeth. Ezetian, who was utterly indistinguishable from any of a thousand other G-Soldiers. Miranda was about twenty five or six, and was either experienced at these kinds of missions or just bossy by nature. And Matthew, yet another teenager who periodically produced and shuffled a Triple Triad Deck, a habit which made Zephon instantly warm to him.

That was the sum total of Zephon's knowledge of the people he was trusting his life to. The five of them, crouched between dormer windows on the roof of the Galbadian command post, did not inspire confidence. Zephon glanced from visor to visor, then at his watch. It was close to midnight, which meant he'd been in Dollet close to five hours, but opportunities to rest would be thin on the ground.

"Suggestions, anyone?" He took care to speak softly.

"They'll be watching the streets, probably more of them on buildings' upper floors than actually on the rooftops." _Are you sure, Miranda? Maybe the Dolletians anticipated strike teams. _"Anything else?"

"Stay alert, maybe?" Tess.

"Hm –good advice. Let's go ... and keep conversation to a minimum." All four of them turned to look at him. At a guess, they were probably rolling their eyes.

"Okay, sorry. Time to g− what is it, Ezetian?"

"You want to be Protected, sir?"

"Don't call me sir, I'm not even a corporal. And no, not yet. We're right outside the... uh...in the middle of Galbadian territory, if we were in Dolletian crosshairs we'd be dead by now."_ I sound certain, don't I? Let's hope I'm right. _

Deciding to gamble on his hunch, Zephon moved in a crouching run towards the building's gutters, and took a leap towards the command post's nearest neighbour, clearing the distance easily. His landing jolted a few tiles loose, subsequently shattering on the street below. With an audible crash.

_N.B. Don't do that again. _

While he waited for his comrades to negotiate a slower, less dramatic route to his current position, Zephon scanned his surroundings. Reportedly, the sharpshooter corps was one of the few competent units in the Dollet army. He'd need to be careful.

Zephon was currently on his hands and knees on one side of a V-shaped tiled rooftop. The command post was higher and was now shielding him from behind- though the bar/card lounge roof was itself exposed, there were enough indentations to make the soldiers crouching there a difficult target until they moved. In order to reach him quietly, however, his bodyguards would have to land on another flat roof, lower and more exposed, which would run from the bar's corner past the end of the V-roof, making it an effective bridge. He edged towards that end of his building, stopping just before losing the cover of the command post, and drew his sword. Thrusting the blade around the corner, he saw the reflection of a church tower, several windows of which faced the exposed roof-bridge.

_It's virtually certain there's a few Dollet soldiers up there. The first guard across will probably get here, but the others? We shouldn't be wasting Protection this early in the mission._

_...Damn it. _The other soldiers were looking from the tower to him. Tess was slowly creeping closer to the corner of the bar's roof. He waved at her.

_Now, how do I get them to understand me? _He pointed at Tess, raised one finger, pointed at the bridge and then beckoned. Raising three fingers, he pointed at the other three soldiers, and then held up his hand, palm facing her. He took a casting stance (difficult in a crouch) and pointed at the tower, then raised three fingers and beckoned again.

_I hope that made sense. _The other soldier nodded, moved back to speak with the others, before all four of them moved back towards the buildings corner, ready to jump across to him. Tess took the lead, looked at him, and leapt at his nod. She hit the exposed bridge and took three short steps, moonlight glinting from her armour, before taking another short jump to Zephon's roof. He waited until she was past him, then stepped out from cover.

" Thunder!" The lightning bolt struck the side of the tower low down, barely damaging the structure but hopefully dazzling the snipers within. He heard tiles rattle as the other soldiers made their move, and then an arm wrapped around his neck as Miranda dragged him back into the shadow of the command post. Bullet reports sounded behind them as the five soldiers ran crouched along the side of the V-roof, stepped across a narrow alley into the gap between a conservatory and the main part of someone's house, and then paused for breath in the valley between another two Vs.

Miranda shook her head. "A thunderbolt from a clear sky...that'll draw the attention of every sniper in the city."

Zephon looked at her. "Think the ones in the tower'll report that we're here?"

"They'll probably send a carrier pigeon back to the Dukedom's fortress, but sniper units are isolated, there's no way they'll be able to inform them all. Most of the rooftop units'll just go by the flash."

"Ok, let's put some distance between us and it." The skirmish patrol moved on again, creeping from rooftop to rooftop. Then they saw their first Dollet sniper.

The man was facing away from them, perched on a flat extension to a warehouse, his rifle trained on the empty street below. Dressed in camouflage rather than the standard Dollet military uniform, he would have been hard to see in the mountains, but was only the more visible on the eaves. Further up the same building, the Galbadians glanced at each other again.

_I could take him from here with a Thunder ... but that's a little flashy. _"Tess, you're quieter than me, think you can get closer to him?"

She nodded. "If he doesn't look around. What do you want me to do?"

_Um...good question. Stabbing isn't usually quiet. _"Push him off the roof. He'll scream, draw attention to him not us."

Miranda tapped his shoulder. "You sure?"

_No._

"I'm not sure I have the strength to throw an armoured man off a roof, especially if he notices me."

"Uh...okay. Matt, go with her, between you you should be able to tip him over. You need more help, we'll be here."

Ezetian spoke up. "I think this's where we start Protecting ourselves, folks."

"...He's right. Uh...three should do for now, I think? You two take one each, then if the others are standing close to me we'll all be covered."

They cast the spells, and Tess and Matt began crawling up behind the sniper, who was still facing the street. He didn't look around, and within feet of the man, the two Galbadians stood up. The sniper must have heard something then, beginning to turn, but a rifle was not a close quarter weapon, there would be nothing he could−

Bullets punched ripples in Tess and Matt's Protection, courtesy of the other sniper on the opposite side of the street, but the barriers held. The shockwaves from the impacts knocked them back steps, giving their target time to level his rifle. At that range, his rounds would punch right through the Protection.

"Fire!" The word, from three throats, sent fireballs screaming towards the Galbadians' initial target, blasting him backwards off the eave. But there were three shooters on the roof opposite now, and they were not sparing ammunition. As Miranda and Ezetian summoned Protection of their own, Matt scooped up the man's dropped rifle and emptied it across the street. It was unlikely he hit anything, but it would make their attackers wary. Dropping flat, the two G-soldiers retreated towards their fellows, backed up against a wide chimney near the building's peak. Two more Dolletians opened up from either side, leaving Ezetian and Miranda to turn their Protection to face them and retaliate with Fire. Leaving Zephon with the sole responsibility of dealing with the three across the street.

A bullet bounced from his Protection, directly in front of his eyes. He raised a hand, aiming for the most central gun flashes.

"Thunder!" The bolt caused a hesitation in the gunfire, but it resumed moments later undiminished. "Shit. Thunder! Thunder! Thunder!" Jagged streaks of lightning stabbed into the roof opposite, to no tangible result. Tess and Matt reached him, turned, and took casting stances of their own. Twin Fires followed Zephon's next attack.

"Time to go, kids!" Miranda shrieked, and the Galbadians turned and fled, bullets sparking off Protection and armour. It was a costly retreat, Zephon unleashing eight more of his Thunder spells − wild strikes that didn't hit targets, distractions to cover their flight. He brought down an entire building to prevent pursuit from the sharpshooters, blasting holes in rafters, slipping on loose slates, running, running, running. They must have bolted across half the city, drawing bullets from every angle, before they calmed enough to slow down, and finally stop in a bizarre gazebo built into the roof of someone's house. After a headcount and status reports revealed that all five soldiers had survived the engagement without much more than bruises, Zephon sat down and closed his eyes, trusting the others to spy Dollet soldiers coming.

"Damn, that was messy." _The Sniper Corps deserve their reputation. Or maybe I'm just a crap squad leader._

He opened his eyes. Miranda's teeth shone under her visor. "Don't worry too much. Everyone's alive. And you scared the shit out of them collapsing the roof like that. There's not a Dollet soldier on these rooftops that's going to rest calmly tonight."

"Yeah, because soldiers are known for being relaxed in warzones…"

"We've got to keep moving, the Dolletians will be here soon. Where now?"

Zephon looked around. "Everyone feeling okay? Tired?"

The others indicated that they would be capable of further action. He studied the skyline, but, having not been watching it before, the landmarks had no relevance. Scanning neighbouring buildings, pink flecks caught his eye.

"Oh, a Draw Point!" Draw points were wellsprings of natural magic deposits. Found all over the world, they bloomed and died and replenished themselves at will. They could appear anywhere, from battleships to volcanoes to hockey pitches, and not even the infamous Dr. Odine had been able to discover how or why before Esthar closed its borders. Zephon had been exploiting a Thunder Draw Point which had manifested in his wardrobe back in Deling City for some years.

This particular spring had manifested itself at the nearest edge of a pyramid roofed neighbouring building. The things were valuable resources, and it took Zephon only moments to make his decision. "I'm going for it. I'd like Protection on all sides, please. If I start drawing fire, you can try flanking them if they're close. If not, stay hidden." Aware that they would argue if he hesitated, Zephon left the roof garden and took a running leap.

He cleared the building's gutter, took the impact on his shoulder, and managed to gain his feet without rolling off the side. A single bullet sparked off his shoulder armour, before Protection slid into place. Shockwaves from further impacts stung, but Zephon was able to ignore them as he thrust one hand into the spring. Guardian Forces and monsters with an affinity for magic could draw from a distance, but Zephon had to actually be touching his source. He closed his eyes.

_Blind! Not bad! Thanks, rooftop. _The flecks of light snaked up his arm and into his forehead, creating a sensation of heaviness behind his eyes. Dollet citizens seldom crawled around on the rooftops searching for magic, and the spring had remained untapped for some time. At a rough estimate, Zephon had gained approximately twelve blind spells from his unwary leap.

The others had dealt with the two snipers by the time he rejoined them, but their armour was dented and they were breathing hard. Nonetheless, Zephon was feeling good. He was freshly stocked with a pretty useful battlefield spell, and his squad were battered but all alive after repeated engagements. He was about to direct them to move on when Ezetian was shot in the head.

* * *

**Please review. Compliments are not compulsory. **


	5. Medic

**Medic**

The round came through the roof tiles they were leaning on, sending shards in every direction before impacting on the point of Ezetian's jaw. It punched through the bone, finally lodging in the roof of his mouth. He didn't even scream, sinking to his knees with a gurgle as blood, teeth, and pieces of jawbone spread across the slate. Zephon, Tess, and Matt wrapped their arms around him before he rolled off the building, while Miranda drew her sword and began scanning the skyline.

"Tess, with me. Matt, Zephon, stay with him, don't let him drown or bleed out." She swung herself off the side of the roof and through a window. Breaking glass, then screams. Matt drew his deck, fanned out and closed the cards, then replaced them in a holster at his hip. A bubbling noise from the wounded soldier prompted them to extend his head over the side of the building like teetotallers a drunk friend. Blood dripped from the remnants of the soldier's jaw, but when they reeled him back, he drew a rattling breath.

_Shit, that's a dying man if I ever saw one. Sorry, Ez. _

"Clear down here boys, bring him in." A horizontal Protect spell under the window sill provided a platform for manoeuvring the body inside. They found themselves in an empty bedroom. Hockey posters. A Boco the Chocobo duvet cover. As soon as they had their comrade settled in the bed (Zephon had to wonder what the room's owner would make of the mess), Miranda vanished out the window again, while Tess disappeared deeper into the house. After a glance at Ez, Zephon winced and looked at Matt instead. The other soldier tried to fan his cards again, but this time a few of them spilled free, landing face up. Zephon blinked.

"Is that a T-Rexaur card?" Quick glance at Ez, slight shudder, then back to the cards.

Matt inclined his head. "Yep. Not cheap." His own eyes skittered away from the bed.

Pause. Glance. "You _bought_ it?" He tried to invest his words with the disdain he would have felt in more agreeable circumstances. Triple Triad cards were available to buy, but a true gamer won their cards in combat, either sparring with swords or duelling with cards. A T-Rexaur was one of the more highly ranked monsters. Zephon stood, drew his own deck. He'd begun with the dregs of his father's, and since carved a bloody path through Deling City's amateur circuit.

"You leave me no choice. I challenge you to a duel!"

Matt's visor snapped up."Bring it! Rules?"

"Galbadia."

"Trade?" Zephon half smiled. At least his opponent knew the game. Ears open, but eyes closed to the bleeding man behind him, he selected his cards

"Diff. Agreed?"

"Oh yeah. You insulted my deck! Prepare to suffer!"

Matt spun the coin, and battle was joined. He wasn't bad, but very few people could beat Zephon when he wanted to play cards. After three matches, Zephon added both the T-rexaur and a Marlboro to his menagerie. Nonetheless, his opponent had fought valiantly, and Zephon decided to forgive his indiscretion. Just the once.

"Are you a pro player, by any chance?" _Wow. Made an impression. _

"Do I look like a pro?" Professional tournaments usually had entry fees, hence Zephon had never entered one. Tess reappeared with a bowl of milk, which she placed beside the bed, before asking "What do pro players look like?"

"Trenchcoats, hair gel. You must have seen them walking around town. Want to test my ability?"

Her head cocked. "Em, no. I don't have a deck."

Both boys turned to look at her. Matt spoke. "You had no childhood, then."

"Oh, come on−"

"Tess. You _had_ no childhood." Zephon high fived Matt. All three of them smiled, up until Mirandas swung in the window with a handful of Ezetian's teeth, which she dropped into the milk bowl.

"Hey people. What's up?"

"We're bonding over a children's card game," Tess said, prompting Zephon to reach for his sword.

"Triple Triad is a time honoured military tradition."

Miranda's teeth made an appearance.

"That's actually true, you know." She looked at them for a long moment, then at the cards spread on the ground. "Shit, what the hell are you doing in the army? Not one of you over eighteen."

Silence. Then: "War orphan." from Tess. The others looked at her, asked no questions. Matt sighed and nodded. Then their eyes turned to Zephon, who hesitated.

"...Patriotic career guidance counsellor. Bastard."

Matt looked at him. "And if he told you to dress up as a bat and fight crime?"

"Wish he had. No two year commitment. I'd get beaten to a pulp and go home."

"...You have this guy's address?"

"No. But if I ever do go into crimefighting, I'll let you know, don't worry. You can be my nemesis."

"What about me?"

Pause.

"You can be the girl who gets wet."

Tess wiped at her visor. "I always knew I was destined for greatness, you know. They wanted me to go for Theoretical Physics, but I said ' No, I'm going to do something meaningful with my life, something that makes a difference.' And now, I have. My existence is complete."

Zephon and Matt looked at each other. _She took that well._

Miranda looked up. "Call me old fashioned, but I think you ought to be a little more ambitious, darling."

Tess fisted her hips. "Oh, come on! How many women who get wet for a living can pull it off wearing full body armour and a mask?"

Even Miranda laughed. Ezetian had been listening too, however, and his slight jerk was enough to introduce fresh convulsions. The Galbadians flew to his side, and between them they managed to get the man breathing once more. The volume of blood from his wounds had slowed in the last few minutes, but not stopped.

Miranda punched the nearest doorframe, cracking the wood. "Fuck." Then, louder, "We can't staunch that wound without choking him, but if we just let it bleed, he'll be dead before morning. He needs surgery, but there's no way we can move him now. Matt, Tess, head back to the bar, let Dell know what's going on, ask him if there's anything that can be done. Zephon, you and me are going to sit right here and try to keep this soldier alive. It's going to be a long night."

She was right.

* * *

**Apologies if this is too gory for a T-rating. Please review, compliments not compulsory. **


	6. Occupier

**Occupier**

Towards morning, the Galbadian army made their move. The advance squads had not dealt significant damage to the Dollet guerrillas, but just knowing they were there forced the D-Army to stay awake and alert. If they couldn't resist the temptation to take snapshots, they (mostly) wasted ammunition and revealed their positions. The squads were usually well Protected, but even when Dollet soldiers managed clean kills, they couldn't inflict numerical damage. When the Galbadian advance withdrew, they handed a list of sniper positions to their officers, and infantry units hit the eaves in numbers. Without radio contact, the Dollet army couldn't communicate the order to withdraw, and a belated attempt to reinforce only confused things further.

The Dollet army didn't have the same numbers or focus as the Galbadians, but they were fighting to protect their home, and surrendered no chimney uncontested. They were slowly driven back through the day, until by dusk the soldiers held only the Hotel and a couple of rooftops behind it. Even their mech, the main reason Galbadia didn't have total control of the streets yet, had been drawn inside. Waiting.

Zephon had been spared all of this, busy attempting to prevent Ezetian from bleeding out and/or choking. Alternating between scanning for approaching enemies and expelling congealing blood from his comrade's throat, Zephon was dead on his feet by the time the Galbadian army broke through to them. Ezetian had lost a sizeable proportion of his blood, but he was alive. The med-crew between them were able to ship him out, and with half decent care, he'd almost certainly survive – the wound was a bleeder, but nothing vital had been punctured. Zephon suffered through an instant of envy before the image of the man's jaw exploding returned to him.

With the whole night devoted to staunching wounds, Zephon was recalled to the Galbadian command post to get some rest. He woke up just in time to be reattached to his original squad and sent right back over the buildings for the final push.

* * *

By now, Zephon was really getting sick of climbing. This time, at least, he was with a fully manned regiment. There were almost certainly Dollet soldiers watching, the veterans who were intelligent enough not to fire on scouts, but they wouldn't start expending ammunition until the Galbadians were fully engaged with other troops. As such, the G-Army roof units reached the section overlooking the central square unchallenged. Casting stances were taken as they watched their allies gather below, just off the square itself. The Dolletians could have taken an opportunity then, using their street sweeper to ...well, sweep the streets clean, but they were thoroughly rattled by the unexpected full scale invasion, and didn't act.

By now, the Dollet forces had all but conceded the city. The only question was how soon, and how costly their last stand would prove to be.

One of the Galbadian officers on the street below them produced a megaphone and stepped out of cover, walking alone into the central square. No attack materialised.

"To whom it concerns: We've won. Your Dukedom parliament is fully dug in in the mountains, and they can't reinforce you even if they want to. We control the streets and fringes; you are, as of now, entirely on your own. We can't leave an enemy stronghold behind our lines, so either you come out now, or we come in and get you. That'll inconvenience us, but its life or death for all of you. You have twenty minutes to respond."

_Just surrender, please. I wanna get this over with and go home._

A bullet punched ripples in the officer's Protection. A wasted round, and the shooter knew it, but there couldn't be a much more emphatic answer. The officer missed a step, then raised the megaphone again.

"Anyone like to give me a different answer? Last chance."

A second bullet, from a different source. Beside Zephon, Dellian was whispering.

"See where that came from?" Zephon nodded. A third floor balcony. "Scare him, but don't hit him. W e want to give them an avenue of retreat."

"Um... we do?"

Dell looked at him. "Of course. Never, ever be merciless. It's stupid and tactically unsound. You reap what you sow, and if the enemy knows he won't be spared, there'll be no surrender."

_Oh shit. He's teaching me tactics. Don't tell me I'm in line for promotion._

In the Central Square, another bullet rippled off the blue tinged barrier. The officer shrugged, and snapped his fingers. Infantry units formed up in ranks of three behind him, unhurriedly and open to enemy fire. But nothing happened...yet. Dell spoke again.

"Pick your targets. Those guys down in the square aren't protected, so it's up to us to keep them from taking fire. If you have to, draw it on yourselves." Down the line, Trevor nodded to himself. His lips moved.

_Come on! Someone do something!_

The officer stepped close to the main doors, raising his heavy gauntlet, and was knocked back a step as the doors swung outward.

The Dollet mech had the appearance of an armoured steamroller, thick spiked metal armour and one huge wheel (also metal and spiky) in front, which must have made it quite uncomfortable for those inside on rough ground. Two flamethrowers were mounted on the roof, with a heavy machinegun between them swivelling and searching for a target. When Dell had said 'modified street sweeper', Zephon had assumed it to be a hastily put together machine not really designed for warfare, but the thing wasn't something that could just be dismissed. It lunged forward into the officer's Protection, who firmed his stance just in time to meet it. He was staggered by the impact, but his barrier held as underlings ran to his side. The mech opened up with all three weapons as the Dollet soldiers began firing from various positions on the upper floors.

Zephon's first Thunder spell hit the balcony rail where the first bullet had come from, delivering a mild shock to the occupier. It was a well targeted spell even by his standards, forcing a spasm of movement from the sniper which made him targetable for Dell's Fire a moment later, blasting him back through the glass doors. Bullets began sparking off tiles around the Galbadian snipers. Fine. One more bullet they caught was one less for the infantry below. Three were down already.

The Dollet mech's machine guns failed to penetrate the protective barrier, but streams of liquid flame weren't substantial enough to meet resistance. Fire licked across the officer, who stood his ground, but less well armoured foot soldiers behind him were quickly aflame. A sniper round stung the officer's shoulder, but the man who'd fired it had had to lean out to hit someone so close to the building, and no fewer than five Fires obliterated him almost instantly. A bullet stung Zephon's helmet, snapping his head back, but it wasn't a direct hit and didn't penetrate. His next Thunder arced down to strike the mech, the only result of which was a solid punch from Dell and a shriek of "You'll blind our soldiers!"

Two more infantry men were down, and the third was on his knees, but the officer was still standing, keeping the mech from moving out of the doorway and dealing further damage. Nonetheless, he was being forced backwards, and cracks were beginning to appear in his glowing blue shield. Zephon's next Thunder hit a metal drainpipe and was earthed, but delivered very mild shocks to at least four balconies as it passed.

Small fires had now caught all over the building, and were beginning to grow, but it'd be a long time before they became a serious hazard to those inside. Four bullets knocked dents in Zephon's breastplate, and yet again, Dell punched him through armour.

"Stop drawing attention to yourself, you're getting targeted!"

_What? Me? _

He took a step back. Below, the soldier on his knees was suddenly glowing orange. He rose with an entirely unheard battlecry as twin flamethrowers turned to focus on him. The driver knew a Limit when he saw it. The soldier managed a single vertical swipe before hitting the ground again, but that slash resulted in a sheet of reinforced armour being torn like cloth, a two foot long scar in plate steel.

There was a moment of shocked surprise from all concerned, and then the machine retreated to better charge the Protection blocking the Inn doorway. It was clear that the barrier wouldn't survive the impact. Then...the officer shouted something unintelligible, the infantry beside him roared and charged the open doorway, and everyone else simultaneously thought '_What the hell happened there?'_ The machine didn't reappear, while one of the infantrymen clubbed his officer over the head with his pommel and had two others carry him away.

The volume of ammunition from the hotel had declined, and sounds of fighting could now be heard inside. Dell looked at him again, raised his voice.

"Okay, boys, they don't need us all here anymore. Kid, you got another Thunder in you? Hit that fountain, please. Anyone who knows my name, jump to street level while the Dollets are dazzled, we're going to help out. The rest of you, stay here and keep doing what you've been doing."

Slightly guiltily, Zephon blasted the fountain and leapt with the rest of his squad. He hit the streets hard, but kept running, expecting a bullet in the back of the head any moment. They made the foyer intact, finding themselves alone except for the Dollet machine and a handful of soldiers who were containing it between three Protect spells and a wall. Hemmed in, it couldn't use flamethrowers without risking burning down the entire building, and possibly the city too. When it had retreated as far as it could, the officer had cast another Protect directly in front of it, negating the momentum distance would provide and giving the infantry an opportunity to charge the door. In close quarters, the Dolletians quickly fell to the more skilled Galbadians, and not long after they arrived, another captain walked out of an internal room and told them "Building's ours. What in hell are you doing here, Harris?"

"Awaiting orders. This is our new command post, isn't it?"

"I don't see Major Biggs, do you? It'll be a useful place to bed down once we find out whether Dollet has left surprises, but it's not the command post. He's probably back at the bar."

"I was the officer in charge there yesterday, and I haven't seen him since we left DC."

"...Weird. Anyway, right now, call the others down from the buildings. The Dollet army has officially left the city. They'r e running a fighting withdrawal, so we get to put all these nice beds to use."

"Sirs!" Three soldiers had entered behind them, the one in the centre with a badge of rank. Sergeant Jason Wedge, bodyguard, secretary, and punchbag to the Major. "New orders. As many soldiers as possible to begin sweeping the mountains. Strip the city if you need to." He handed them an envelope.

"What?" both captains hissed "The Dollet retreat will have stirred up the monsters, it'll be chaos up there if we try mop them up now."

"I can't talk about why, but we need to stop them exploring the mountains too closely. When you start meeting serious resistance or a counterattack, bite them, then retreat. Back_ into the city, _draw as many soldiers as you can after you. Anyone left behind will fortify the fringes, by that stage you'll know what else to do. Good luck, sirs." He disappeared with his guards. The captains looked at each other.

"What do you think, Maran?"

"Biggs' a total dick, but he knows what he's doing. It'll take most of the night to spread the word to us all, should be a little quieter up there then."

"Nice." Dell turned to his soldiers "Okay, boys and girls, if anyone asks, you heard none of that. For tonight, get some rest. I recommend the Seaview suite. Anyone want to take messages to some of the other captains?"

Two people volunteered. Zephon was not among them. He didn't need rest, having slept most of the day, but an actual bed was a luxury in a warzone, and he intended to make the most of it. When enough rooms were cleaned of Dolletian surprises, he trooped upstairs with the others.


	7. Mountaineer

**Mountaineer**

_Dearest Sister (And, to a lesser extent, Dad),_

_I can't say anything that might be of military value, including where I am, what I'm doing, or who I'm with. Even if I did, it'd be censored, so this's just a note to say I'm still alive and not hurt. It's weird...I never knew there was so many nice people in the army._**[****Office of the Galbadian Military Censor :)]**

_Anyway, I've no news and even if I had I couldn't tell you. See you soon,_

_Z._

Thrustaevis looked up.

"He wrote?"

Marcus shrugged. "See a wire,cut it. Basic military tenet nowadays."

"There's no date. How long'd this take to get here?"

"Depends on how stable the front is. He could be doing anything right now."

* * *

Trevor's vertical slash impacted hard with the Dollet's shoulder, knocking the man to his knees, and then three of them were on him, clubbing with their flats.

"Don't kill me! I have kids!" the soldier shrieked, shielding his face. The Galbadians hesitated. Briefly. Trev smiled.

"We're Galbadian. Country's full of orphans. Nothing to be ashamed of. And using kids as bargaining chips doesn't say much for you."

Dell reached them.

"Stop torturing the poor bastard. We have work to do." They disarmed him, broke fingers, and moved on. A regimented sweep of the mountains was close to impossible so now they were back to working in squads of twenty. Escorting prisoners would diminish their numbers, but it was hard to kill Dollet soldiers. They were almost cute. The attempted Dollet retreat ran right into monsters displaced from other parts of the mountains, and had dissolved into chaos. The Galbadian units, prepared for concerted resistance, had instead walked into a mess of Dollet military fighting Geezards and Anacondaurs. Dell was cagey about why, but there had to have been some battles up here to stir things up so much.

_We don't have junctions, but we have some good generals._

Their orders were to continue disabling Dollet troops until they met a serious counterattack, but well into their third day in Dollet, nothing had materialised. The Dollet Generals had poured soldiers into the monster ridden mountains, sacrificing a great deal of personnel in order to create inhospitable conditions for an organised offensive. Despite inflicting massive damage and gaining control of the city, the Galbadian momentum was slowing. Dollet was most likely using the time to fortify positions, and the Galbadian army could do very little about it. Towards noon, a squad member called Jeremy stepped on an Anacondaur, which instantly coiled around the offending leg. Between them, they saved his life, but not without multiple broken bones, which resulted in four squad members escorting him home. Dell could heal most things, but breaks needed to be set first.

Their personnel were rapidly diminishing. One of the messengers, Sam, had taken a bullet in the shin while running messages, and while he'd been healed, he retained a limp and hadn't been able to keep up with them. Dell had ordered him to guard the fountain in the Central Square, in the now almost entirely pacified city. It'd keep him out of danger.

So now, their squad of twenty was down to fourteen. Not as bad as it could have been, and everyone was still alive, but as luck would have it, Dellian Harris was an officer that liked to lead the charge, and his patrol in the thick of what little action there was. Most of the other units had deployed quick, needle strikes and withdrawn to let the monsters do the work, but Dell wanted more than that. If two of his closer underlings hadn't been willing to argue, they'd have walked right into the mess, but instead, they were crawling through rocks, having circled the melee to find the boundaries of the Dollet territory. Downside being that there was no easy retreat. Presuming the Dollet army could muster up something that fourteen annoyed soldiers couldn't deal with. So far, there'd only been a handful of snipers in their path.

It was Trev who first spotted something big and metallic, and waved the rest of them over. The soldiers had been crawling through boulders left over from a landslide, and it took some time for them to quietly join him. The trail through the mountains which they had been following from the fringes was blocked by a bulky military mortar, twelve to fifteen feet high, vertically pointing barrel almost three wide. Three Dollet soldiers were manning it, under metal canopies extending from the frame. Zephon could tell at a glance that a thunder spell would hit the canopy and earth without damage, and the machine's bulk itself protected the operators from the front – they were only visible to the Galbadians because the soldiers were slightly higher than them and at an acute angle. The main gun was idle, but two soldiers were operating machine guns set into the sides, barrels tracking the trail. The Galbadian were close, but not level with the gun, and there was no easy way to get there from where they stood. Between them, they could probably destroy the mortar, but not without taking casualties. Signalling Trev and another soldier to keep an eye on the machine, Dell slid back to confer with the others.

"We've reached the edge of the Dolletian fortified positions, boys and girls. And..."

They waited.

"There's not much we can do. We can sit here and do nothing, or we can try to annoy them a little and see what the reaction is like. In these rocks, none of the weapons we can see can target us, so they'll have to bring out something more, it's a good way of seeing what they have in reserve. Once they know we're here, they have to deal with us quickly and decisively, so we'll be hit hard. It's an opportunity, but we could take heat for doing it. Who's a fast runner?"

Never, ever volunteer. Principle of survival for all foot soldiers. The silence stretched, punctuated by creaks from the mortar.

"Fine." He picked two soldiers, apparently at random.

"Once Dollet reacts, the Major needs to know what kind of response they've got. I might not get the chance to give the order, so you two hang back a bit, and once the rest of us are engaged, and you have a clear idea what we're up against, bolt." The selected soldiers slid away from the others.

Twelve G-soldiers, about to try bring a Dollet counteroffensive down on themselves.

Zephon slid over to Trev. The other soldier looked up.

"Hey. How're you feeling?"

"Pretty good considering. You? How're you finding the grand life of the Galbadian military machine?"

"What I expected, although I could've wished we weren't at war on my first da−"

The mortar creaked, and their heads turned.

"...ready to take on that thing?" Zephon.

"Um, we won't be running up the firing line... I hope. "

"You never know, maybe we're the sacrifice to test its capabilities."

Long silence.

Zephon sighed. "Card game?"

* * *

Into their third match, Dell made his way over.

"Time's up, boys. Zephon, let them know we're here."

"Me? Again?"

"Yup. Rookie mistake, kiddo, you showed me you were useful."

_...Shit._

"I'm not going to do any damage, you know. They're under an earthed canopy."

"Who cares? We're just trying to get their attention."

"Fine. Thunder!" He hadn't bothered to aim, ended up hitting the peak of the mortar, sparks running down the side. Two Dollet soldiers looked up, guns swivelling, and Dell opened up with his wrist mounted machine gun. A lucky deflection nicked a Dollet soldier's hand, but it was just a scrape, and the enemy soon responded in kind. Their machine guns were focused on the trail, not the scree to either side, and it was an awkward angle to shoot at. Dell Protected himself, before having the others retreat and lazily exchanging fire with the machine gunners, standing up to display his armour before lying down behind the rocks again.

Zephon went back to his cards as bullets crackled around them. Five fanned in his left hand, his right touched his sword hilt. Time passed, and the crackle of gunfire thinned out, and then stopped. More and more soldiers began playing cards, until only Dell and two others were even paying the Dolletians any attention. He'd stopped wasting ammunition long since, and even the Dolletians stopped bothering to pointlessly shoot rocks. Eventually, Dellian slithered back to his squad, leaving the two footsoldiers to keep an eye on the machine.

"Something's wrong, boys. We should be fighting half a regiment right now. For all they know, there's a full army up here, they can't just leave us alone. It's insane not to counterattack."

"Maybe they don't have enough soldiers left. We shredded the units in the city, and they know we'll destroy whatever they react with." Paul, one of the other soldiers, was smiling as he spoke, well aware of the response but seeking clarification for the others.

"Tactics are good, boy, but sometimes you just have to say 'Chaaaargee!'. The longer they leave us be, the more we dig in and the harder it'll be to root us out. We'll slaughter the counterattack, but while we're slaughtering them, we'll be occupied, so we can't fortify positions or gain territory. What are they waiting for? I want sentries on all sides, and don't forget to look up and down too. Anyone left over, how dare you start card games without me. We need a proper tournament structure."

More time passed. Zephon lost a Geezard from his deck, gained a Thrustaevis and a Creeps. The quarter finals had just started when the sentry beckoned. The mortar had gained a new gun crew. Zephon didn't immediately recognise their uniforms, until Dell softly cursed. "Seed..."

A great deal more cursing ensued, from various squad members.

There were five of them, each appearing decidedly...ordinary... to Zephon's eyes. A tall, moderately muscled man had a warhammer slung on his back, but moved lightly for his size. Another carried a handheld machine gun, and he was scanning the trail, ribbons of ammunition rattling when he moved. A dark haired girl had a whip wound around her waist, inch long barbs glinting along its length. Another man carried an ordinary sword, a touch thinner than the Galbadian military issue weapon, while the last girl carried no visible weapon at all. All of them moved like soldiers, but there were no filed teeth, tattoos, or badges denoting their allegiance. None of them looked over twenty five.

The empty handed girl spoke. "Are you sure they want us to shell the city, Al-"

"No names! And yes, I'm sure. If Dollet soldiers shelled a city full of civilians, there'd be an outcry, but if we do it, they can pin it on us." Sword shrugged.

"And...are we going to?"

"Orders are orders." Hammer. "It's intentional. It's either make the entire city hate us, or break our contract. We can't afford to be seen as disloyal."

"...Our... commanders will teach the Duke the error of his ways later, but for now, we've a job to do." Whip. "I won't let our Instructors down."

_Instructor?_

Sword smiled. "And you have a particular one in mind, right? Geez, T-13, you're a qualified Seed. Let go of Teacher, you're older than she is!"

"Shut up. Now."

Sword raised his hands. "Well, I don't want to incur the wrath of the mighty cult of T, so I'll shut up now. Although I am your commander by the way. Let's do this."

"Drama queen." Machine Gun.

"What do you want me to say? 'Let's mosey'? Just do it!"

"...fine."

Machine gun reached for the stack of shells, and Hammer and Unarmed began helping him operate the mortar. Whip and Sword manned the machine gun positions. Dell beckoned the soldiers back around him.

"And here we have the Dolletian's trump card, boys and girls. SeeD. They may look harmless, but those guys are fucking lethal. No more messing, boys, if we give them the slightest opening they'll tear us apart."

"We're taking them head on!" Four veteran soldiers would have shouted had the Seeds not been close by.

"We have to. Messengers, once you get an opening, bolt like Cerberus is on your tail. Because he could be. Tactically, stay spread out as much as you can, we don't need to all be taken out by an area effect spell or GF."

Ahead, the mortar roared. The soldiers spread out, ten feet apart, crouched at the fringes of the scree. Dell extended a shaking hand and fired.

Unarmed yelped as a burst of machine gun rounds punched into her ankle, but she didn't even fall, Protect spell sliding into place almost instantly. Screams of surprise rose from the Seeds, and the machine gunners opened up. But the Turrets fared no better than they had when the Dolletians used them. Those soldiers who had Protect spells stocked shielded themselves.

But the Galbadians were no longer fighting Dollet soldiers. These were Seeds, and once Protection was in place, Hammer stepped into view. Nine Fire spells and a Thunder directly struck his head, knocking the Seed to his knees, but Unarmed sent a Cura his way, immediately followed by a Shell. The Galbadians continued to pour on magic and bullets, but he didn't fall, standing firm until he suddenly faded from view. A cylinder of flame took his place, and then a huge demon was floating above them with small fires burning across its skin. Barrel chest, horns, disproportionately small legs. The shockwaves from the thing's weight hitting the ground staggered the few soldiers who had gained their feet, as the red monstrosity leapt back into the air, ball of molten rock twenty feet across forming in its wake as Galbadians scrambled in various directions – somewhere, anywhere, so long as it was away from that thing and its lavaball.

The demon was not unscathed. Some of its fur was charred and brittle, accepting as it had the spells aimed at its handler. Nonetheless, none of them were inclined to challenge it in full manifestation, and Zephon turned his back on the thing as it reached the peak of its arc, until he was blasted off his feet. Rolling down the haphazard pile of rocks, he felt bruises being to form under his armour as he came to a stop.

Where the scree had been was a crater twenty feet across and four deep, cooling rock hissing in the air. As he watched, the sides caved in, steam and smog rising into the sky. Of the demon, there was no sign. Of Paul the G-Soldier, only a glint of molten metal at the bottom of the crater hinted that he had ever existed. The Seeds had reappeared, but in the instant it took for them to orient themselves, the Galbadians were in full flight. Hindered by their own crater, the Seeds did not pursue.

Dell managed to halt them before they scattered into the monster filled mountains. He wouldn't have, if a soldier hadn't fallen, and three more soldiers tripped over him, causing the rest to skid to a halt.

"I will shoot the next man to move." Well, that was one way to get their attention.

"Bullets or fire? At least this way there'll be a corpse to bury."

"Did you see that? That little spark..."

"Captain, come on, there's no way can take on that thing." The Galbadians, many of them bearing minor burns or shading their eyes, were almost screaming, but they weren't reaching for their swords.

"We have to end this here, boys. You heard them, they're going to shell the city. The G-army is garrisoned there, and Dollet's civilians. We don't have to kill the Seeds, just mess up the workings of that mortar."

"Playing the hero, Captain? Fuck that." Gillian

"_Listen _to me! The Galbadian army are sweeping the mountains, and we have orders to withdraw into the city once we meet resistance. If they start shelling the city, our retreat will be disrupted, seriously slowed down, and you've seen what happens in direct conflict with Seed. If we end up trapped in the city that's being shelled, fighting Seeds in close quarters, the casualty rates will be phenomenal. We could lose the entire fucking army. Messengers, are you still here? Bolt. Head home, tell every G-Soldier you can find that we have Seeds up here; it's time for a full withdrawal. We're probably the unit that's deepest in Dollet territory, which makes us the rearguard. We're the sacrifice so that the rest of the army can get out of here. I'm not going to abandon you; I'll be leading the fucking charge, on my own if I have to be. But I am not letting any of you walk away."

_Hahaha...awesome career choice, Zephon. Fan fucking tastic._

_...Oh well, at least Dad and Sis'll get the payout. I wonder what my life's worth to the Galbadian army? I'm not a veteran, but I'm in the vanguard, that should count for something. Posthumous medal, maybe. That's gotta be worth a few grand. Private life insurance, that's 100K for a death, minus the cost of my gear and training, so that's 92 or 3. My first month's wages'll make that ninety six, and the state funeral, if there's enough left of me to bury, that'll be a spared expense. But then there's whether they'll charge to ship me home. Thrustaevis'll pay it, she can be sentimental like that, sorry Sis, but it's true. And then..._

Trev poked his shoulder. "You okay? What're you thinking?"

"Maths."

His jaw twitched. "Uh...right. Been nice knowing you."

"Thanks. Likewise."

Dell looked at them. "Time to go boys." The Galbadians began walking up the slope. They weren't running, but neither were they bolting in the opposite direction. The mortar roared.

Just short of the peak, Dell stopped, gestured his two favourite soldiers to follow him. "The rest of you, stay back until you hear the bang or me screaming. I have one last trick to help us out."

He stepped up to the peak and they heard him shout "Quake!" The magically inclined among the soldiers smiled. That was a powerful 'trick', rarely issued even to officers. He'd probably had the spell tucked away in the back of his head for years. The crash of clashing rocks pounded in their ears for an instant, and then Dell screamed at them to join him. "And stay fanned out!"

They took the 'ten foot apart' formation and ran up the slope, running directly down the path the machine guns had been covering five minutes ago. The mortar had been knocked on its side by the Quake, and enough fresh rock had fallen into the crater to make it passable, if cautious travelling. The Seeds were gone. When they reached him, Dell beckoned them on into what appeared to be the mouth of a tunnel set into a cliff wall, big enough to drive a military vehicle into.

"One of them's hurt, mortar fell on him. This's our chance!"

_Hang on, weren't we just supposed to−_

"Hurry it up, kid!" Zephon put on a burst of speed, bypassing most of the squad until he and Trevor, as the youngest, were running in the van. They passed through an open heavy oak door bound in iron, and confronted a suspiciously empty corridor with an ominous corner ahead. Trev broke stride, Zephon kept going at full speed.

Had he slowed to turned the corner, he would have been skewered by Sword, who jabbed hard as he came into view, but his momentum carried him past the strike and he spun and slashed his attackers throat before Sword could attack again- a killing strike for someone who wasn't junctioned. Sword hit his knees, and Machine Gun drove his shoulder into Zephon's stomach, a hard impact even through armour, knocking the G-Soldier onto his back as the Seed tried to level his weapon. Had Trevor, coming behind, not rammed his swordpoint into the Seed's armpit, Zephon would have been riddled. The momentum enhanced thrust should have punched through the ribcage and emerged under the Seed's other arm, but his junctions prevented total penetration, and no more than six inches of blade was buried in the Seed. It seemed to have penetrated a lung nonetheless, as the Seed collapsed, gasping.

Whip-girl cast a Protect across the width of the corridor, repelling the Galbadians' next attacks as Unarmed tried to heal the others, Hammer having suffered a crushed ribcage under the fallen mortar before the others had dragged him out. She followed up with a Fira, forcing the Galbadians back around the corner, following them a heartbeat later after casting a shell. Standing out from cover, she regarded the Galbadians before her, and...stood still.

"She's summoning! Run!"

Zephon never found out who had made that call, except that it hadn't been Dell. Again, speed borne of youth, light armour, and terror had them outstripping their fellows, and he and Trev were the first through the door. They skidded to a stop to find a sudden chill in the air, and turned to find a lance of ice bursting up from the ground where Whip Girl had been. With a woman with long blonde hair and blue skin inside it. It was clear that none of them would outrun the attack...two Galbadians were down just from the shards of the Blizzara. As Ice Woman gathered her power, Zephon lunged for the door and slammed it shut, wedging his sword into a flagstone behind it. Screams of rage from trapped G-soldiers reached their ears. The heavy door shivered under the weight of the attack, and then...silence.

Zephon turned to Trev. "Shit. That was close. Let's go."

Trev looked at him. "Go?" He was still holding his sword, and now slowly moved it into an attacking stance. "You shut them in, to face that, and now you're just going to leave?"

Zephon, swordless, backed away. "Trev, wait. Think about this. If I hadn't done that, that attack would have caught us all, I had to do it. I had to!"

"Maybe...but you're just going to bolt now? Leave them?"

"Leave them? You really think any of them are still alive? Even if they are, what can we do? Those're Seed in there! Seed! What exactly do you think we can do?"

He slipped one hand behind his back, allowed Fire to gather in it. "I'm not staying. Back off, Trev, I _really_ don't want to hurt you."

The door shivered in its frame. Trevor took another step towards his friend.

"Maybe we can't do anything. But _I _can't just walk away, and I'm not letting you just wash your hands of this, you cold blooded bastard."

"Come on, I can't drag you with me. Put down the sword, PLEASE!"

"Do what he says." The voice came from beyond the door.

Trev glanced sideways. "You enjoying this, Seed?"

"Not really. Now, I can't tear this door off its hinges without bringing down the ceiling too, so I'll have to wait for my friends to heal. That gives you about a minutes' head start, so no matter what you do, we'll catch up anyway. Do whatever you like, it won't matter. But if you're going to die, at least let us do it, and you'll do someone a favour by raising our ranks a little."

Trevor turned to fully face the door, literally spitting in his rage, and Zephon's Fire Spell hit him in the jaw, knocking him backwards into the wall. Zephon was already running by the time the spell impacted, and didn't see whether Trevor Martin got up again or not.

**And thus concludes the battle of Dollet, folks. Please review, compliments not compulsory.**

**Author's notes:**

**I'm taking Ifrit, Shiva, and Quezacoatl to be the 'standard issue' GFs of Garden that every graduate has. Every student has to go through the Fire Cavern, right?**

**Zephon and Trevor were in front, but they escaped first. They're fresh from training, young, and not all the soldiers heard the call, so they still got out before anyone else. I know having to kill your best friend is a cliche, but I did it anyway. Oh well. This chapter didn't at all turn out the way I intended it.**


	8. Card Shark

**Card Shark**

The Galbadian army took considerable casualties in their withdrawal, but with the sudden presence of upwards of seventy SeeDs in the mountains, it could have been far, far worse. Thanks to their having orders to withdraw on serious contact, the G-Army managed to avoid the bulk of the mercenaries, leaving many SeeDs with no targets. According to their contract with Dollet, SeeD was not allowed to enter the city itself, (for the simple reason that summoning GFs in an urban area was likely to tear the place apart.) By withdrawing into Dollet before heading to the Communications tower, the G-Army had prevented pursuit, and only a few SeeDs had managed to chew on their flanks as they withdrew to the tower, the objective of the entire invasion.

SeeD, of course, had been aware that they needed to pursue, and despatched four squads into the city centre on some technicality of their not being in fact SeeD members. Despite virtually eradicating the Galbadian presence in the city, they did not prove entirely effective. One squad had decided to tap into the Dollet cable network to co-ordinate the others...which had a very limited effect when trying to communicate with dozens of small mobile squads. One squad had seized the bar which had been the Galbadian's initial staging point, but one of its members had partaken in the vomit inducer laden food the Galbadians had left behind, leaving his squad immobile and effectively neutralised. One squad had proceeded to unblock the harbour, but the battle was over before that became truly effective.

And one squad had followed the retreat right to the communications tower, and cut their way inside to Major Biggs' command post. They'd engaged in a battle with the Major and his adjutant, Sgt Wedge, and what had been a battle with acceptable losses could have turned out to be disaster. Fortunately, Dollet had cried foul over the purported breach of contract in dispatching squads in Dollet City, and reneged on their payment...prompting a full withdrawal of SeeD mid battle, leaving the Dollet army hopelessly over-extended and with no option but to sue for peace.

Even that had its upside. In the process of fighting the Major, SeeD had destroyed a monster roosting at the top of the tower, which would have been awkward for the army to get rid of without destroying equipment and taking casualties

Thus, Galbadia retained the Communications tower, as though they intended to use it when everyone knew radio interference would swallow any broadcast they tried to make. The toehold on Dollet territory was far more important, but they wouldn't catch the army off guard again. Major Wedge was in disgrace for losing the Black Widow pursuing the fleeing SeeDs, but the battle had actually turned out quite well. Galbadia's army was largely intact, they'd kept the tower, and a wedge had been driven between the Dukedom Parliament and SeeD.

A successful battle, which presented a problem for Zephon. He'd lost his sword, and hadn't thought to pick up a new one before reporting in. The army would provide a replacement if he asked, but they'd also enquire into the circumstances in which he'd lost his first issue. Ordinarily, losing a sword was a charge of negligence, resulting in a fine and a couple of days of hard labour. But in a battle situation, 'casting away your weapon in the face of the enemy' was a serious offence, potentially resulting in a dishonourable discharge. 'Dishonourable' meant you lost your entitlement to any and all benefits, meaning that there would be no wages or military pension. Zephon honestly believed he'd rather die than go home and face Thrustaevis empty handed.

From Dell's squad of twenty, there were two other survivors. Jeremy, who'd stepped on the Anacondaur, was alive but would not be fit for active service for months. His bodyguards had just reported to the bar to be reassigned when the SeeD squad hit it. One of Dell's messengers had slipped and broken her neck independently of enemy action, leaving only one other survivor, Kersan, nineteen, female, and understandably subdued. Zephon had been reattached to his covert squad (Tess, Matt, and Miranda) while they tried to decide what to do with him, and she'd somehow followed along.

Having reluctantly learned from their mistakes in Timber, Galbadia wanted to reconcile with the Dollet citizenry as soon as possible, sending out squads to various bars in the town to buy rounds for the patrons, using Galbadian expense account funds. Someone was clearly very observant among the Major's staff, as it was the survivors of the most beaten up squads who were given this 'duty'. The mission served to help their most shellshocked soldiers unwind, fostered ties with Dollet Citizens while giving human faces to the G-soldiers, _and _further widened the citizenry's distaste for SeeD. The soldiers were advised not to eat or drink themselves, as anything they were served would probably be rife with laxatives, emetics, or sedatives, but they ordered the drinks anyway to keep the proprietor happy, letting them stack up on the table between the card playing fields. Apart from Tess, they were all playing.

"Dragon GF believed to be trapped inside a cursed lamp. Seven letters."

"Trapped inside a lamp? Bahamut's the Dragon King, but I've never heard any legend like that. Can't see it happening." Miranda.

"Yeah, it'd be some lamp to stand up to a Megaflare. Collector's Item."

"Who the hell would buy that? 'Woo, shiny. Nice designOHGODPLEASENO!'"

"'Buy one, get fifty foot dragon GF free." Suitably embarrassed silence.

Matt looked up, fanned his cards. "Y'know, I've always wondered...who named GFs GFs? Did we do it, or is that their name for themselves? 'Guardian Force'... Were they always called that? What were they supposed to guard?'"

"I think we named them..." Miranda. "Dr. Odine, most likely. Before that, there was no particular reason to think of GFs as a species. I mean, you see Cactuar, Ifrit, and Doomtrain in a line up, are you going to assume they're related? We just thought they were freaky huge monster thingies."

"...What's Doomtrain?"

"Like a train, but with doom."

"Oh, thanks, it's all clear now. Guess that wasn't the revelation I thought it was."

"What, that Guardian forces...were forces...that guard? Personally I thought that was genius by your standards. GF that spawned a popular plushie. Seven−" Tess again.

"Cactuar!" Four voices. Then, Matt.

"A little weird, that one. I mean, encouraging young children to hug cactuses? There's so many ways that could end badly."

"Just one, really. And it's cacti, by the way."

Across the room...

"Did you see that dance? She dragged him around like a puppet!" Girl's voice, giggly.

"I still don't understand how the most anti social guy we've ever met ended up dancing with one of the hottest girls I've ever seen. I mean, she just materialised out of nowhere, like a GF!" Male.

"Maybe he dressed up Shiva for the occasion." Burst of laughter.

"Nah, she's blonde."

"She's also an elemental force. I'm pretty sure the faculty enforces a 'no touching' rule, or half the guys'd be ice cubes by now."

"How stupid do you think we are? She's like, the ultimate Ice Queen."

"Well, you _were_ talking about how awesomely hot the random teleporting girl was..."

"Women are attracted to people who stand in the corner drinking. I'll have to take that down. Never say or do anything, and try everything in your power to get rid of any advances made−"

"What? Where'd you get that?"

"You saw the dance. At the start, he tried to get rid of her, then decided 'She's not leaving, might as well do it properly.' I've done it before."

"Is. That. Right."

"The Instructor was watching them...It was so sad in a cute way." Different girl's voice.

"13, you'd think it cute if the Instructor vomited over the balcony."

"Of course! Although she'd never, ever consider doing something so ignoble as that."

Back at their table, the Galbadian conversation continued.

"...You're getting the next round, my dear Therese."

"Why, certainly...barring unforeseen events."

"What, like a zombie apocalypse?"

"Well, as apocalypses go, that's a pretty easy one to survive. I mean, civilians can survive it if they're quick on their feet, and we're all in the army. If an army of undead came through that door, we'd probably be okay. It wouldn't disrupt our hypothetical drinking much."

"Yeah, but you're assuming we instantly think...'Oh, there's a zombie' and respond accordingly. I mean, if we start thinking...'Oh, he's drunk.' instead, we could get bitten before we realise."

"Yeah, but then the rest of us can just club you over the head and head out across the roofs like before..."

"And undead attack in packs too, there's likely to be a couple of thousand of them around."

"I'm not saying they can't do damage , but undead aren't really a threat to the world... The only ones that are really dangerous are Forbidden, and there's not _that _many of them. There are worse apocalypses as apocalypses go."

"Like what?"

"Lunar Cry. We're past due. One hit Centra decades ago and the continent is still desolate. And Trabia, the time before that, there's still not much there. Would you prefer to fight thirty or forty undead or a Ruby Dragon?"

"I think I'd prefer not to fight at all."

"Good boy. The best kind of soldier there is." Miranda again. Tess and Matt continued their debate.

"Okay, let's say that a plague of undead starts up somehow. At worst, it'll take out a continent. If it starts in Esthar, all we have to do is guard the railway bridge and we're fine."

"We don't even have to do that! To get here from Esthar, they'll have to pass through FH, so the zombies will all be pacifists with whom we can peacefully coexist!"

The room exploded with laughter, including the Galbadians, five teenagers across the room, and several fiftysomethings at the bar.

_Let's hope we make friends here-_

"Seriously, guys? No comments at all? Zephon?"

"Leave him alone. Their squad took a hit from a GF." Miranda.

The other soldiers turned to look at him. So did some of the rest of the bar, including the other teenagers. Zephon caught a face, one he'd recently seen fade out of view to be replaced by a 12 foot horned demon.

Had the Galbadian uniform not included a mask, Zephon would have been serious trouble, but SeeDs apparently couldn't read jaw-lines, and they turned around again pretty quickly. Probably more alert than they had been, nonetheless.

Unfortunately, the other Galbadians_ could_ read jawlines, and continued looking at him. He spoke. Quietly.

"Don't turn around, don't react. There's five SeeDs across the room."

"How do you know?" Miranda, quiet.

"Because one of them tossed a twenty foot lavaball at me."

"Plans?"

"Order another couple of rounds and call it a night."

"You think we'll get back to the Comm Tower alive?"

"...Maybe. Why the hell am I in charge, I'm not ranked!"

Miranda looked at him. "I'm a lieutenant. I'm what you call a talent scout. Very few people knowingly survive contact with SeeD. This's your chance to _make_ rank."

"Cadetship in the Galbadian army. The most poisoned chalice of poisonous chalices. No thanks...Ma'am."

"Okay, but this's still your call, because I'm not supposed to confess my true identity. Don't go broadcasting it, folks, or I'm out of a job. _And so are you._ So, future general, got any plans?"

"You're asking me?"

"Yes."

"Fine. Lieutenant, how're you at card games?"

"What? I can play."

They glanced down at the table. There'd been the usual back and forth, but Zephon had been consistently winning. Zephon raised his voice slightly.

"You can all head home; I'm going to go seek truly worthy adversaries." Undertone. "I'm not doing this for the fucking assessment either!" _She has to have seen I'm missing my sword...I can't give her a reason to investigate it._

He turned and headed to the SeeD's table. "Any card players here?"

They hesitated, but backing down from challenges –any challenges− was considered poor practice among Triad Masters. He drew his own deck, prompting smiles at the overdramatic flourish. Nonetheless, Sword-SeeD's finger's twitched towards his sheath. They couldn't turn him down without drawing attention, but...

"Heart of the cards, Zephy! I believe in you!" Something about Tess's voice, that breathy, wholehearted chirrup, just _worked._ Zephon pitched forward laughing, together with five SeeDs and three Galbadians. Quick steps behind him, and something heavy was leaning against his chair.

Miranda's voice, behind and distant. "God, I feel old."

"Happens to us all, darling." The barman.

Zephon half turned in his seat.

"If the sergeant asks, I got drunk and stopped to talk with some flowers. Should get Wedge's attention, don't you think?"

"Okay. Good luck." They left; Zephon fanned his deck, smiling faintly, noting similar expressions on the faces of his opponents.

_Heart of the cards...genius, Tess! Pure genius! And you don't even play!_

He looked up.

"House rules?"

"Random." A little awkward, but he could deal with it.

"Fine. Who's first?"

Whip girl smiled at him.

"I'll try you."

"Bring it. I warn you, no one in the G-army can take me."

"Hang on, you're wearing a mask! We can't read your face, that's unfair!"

"...This thing has some expensive gear in it; I'm not taking it off. We can play Open if you like."

"Done!"

Open and Random. Two rules that made it very easy to lose important cards. Such was life, but he didn't need SeeDs knowing what he looked like, even if they probably wouldn't remember it.

He examined his opponent, across the table, found his eyes lingering on her chest. A badge was pinned to the lapel, displaying a photo of a blonde girl. Heart shaped Badge, with 'Trepie', and a number on it. Odd.

He dealt his cards. T-Rexaur, Marlboro, Creeps, SAMO8G (a Galbadian military machine), and Thrustaevis. A weak hand, but better to start weak than end weak.

He examined hers. A ridiculously unlucky draw. Two Bite Bugs, A Blood Soul, A Grendel, and...

His breath caught. Timber Maniacs would print any card you wanted if you paid them enough, from your garden shed to real people.

_Quistis Trepe. Interesting... _Whoever she was, she was a powerful card. Upon spinning the coin, he threw out his Creeps on the square to the middle left. His opponent's instant response was to set Quistis centrally, protecting her weakest side.

He'd guessed right. Trepe was a valued card, one the girl wouldn't like to lose even temporarily. He could still take her with his T-Rexaur, but not without immediately losing the monster to his opponent.

_Ok, then, darling...let's see what else you're capable of._

The rest of the match wasn't really a contest, he just had too powerful a hand. The girl loosed a moan as he seized his prize.

"No. 1 is going to _kill_ me! He sacrificed the hotdog fund for that card."

Zephon smiled in triumph, before remembering that he was playing against SeeDs, and was highly unlikely to survive the night.

Hammer-SeeD caught his sudden shift of expression. "Something wrong?" The man had the kind of presence that loomed.

"Uh, no, I just didn't want to piss you off by being too gloaty."

"Don't get too happy, you're not keeping that card long." Sword. "I challenge you−"

Hammer poked his shoulder. "Can I talk to you for a second? _Now?"_

"One second. Just have to get Quistis back. Wouldn't want a death on my conscience." Zephon flinched, and this time they all caught it.

"Hey, relax. I meant the ritual murder of this pretty lady by the High Priest of her Cult."

_Uh...What?_

He needed to delay them a bit longer. "I don't think−"

"Please? You have to at least give us a chance to get it back. Don't go all Fastitocalon on us!"

_Hm. Grew up by the sea, did you? Cute smile for an international mercenary, though...T-13? Sounds like the model for a robot._

"Well, since you put it like that...Challenge accepted. Bring it!"

"Oh, I will...M'lady's honour depends on it!"

It immediately became clear that this SeeD was a far more formidable opponent. Whip probably only played cards to show off the awesome power of her idol, this guy actually built strategies around his deck. Zephon lost the first match, (but hadn't drawn Quistis in his hand.) He won the second, claiming a Wedge/Biggs card (The G-Army printed cards of its officers, for some reason), and scraped a draw in the third.

Sword was looking at him with a new respect as they dealt their cards for match four.

"You know how to play. I've placed in tournaments before."

"Never entered one. Entry fees."

Zephon lost again, but Quistis wasn't in play. He lost his Marlboro, one of his deck's linchpins. The barman wandered over.

"Now this is how cards should be played. Either of you might even be a match for me."

One of the patrons gasped.

Match five. Zephon earned a victory, barely. He could have retrieved his Marlboro, but elected to take a Shumi card instead, just for novelty value.

Six. Loss. Quistis not in play, prompting a frustrated hiss from the SeeD. "Can we not play Random? I'll be here all night."

The barman shrugged. "Because you're good, I'll waive the house rule. I want to see what hidden treasures you've got. Both of you have to go all out, with the best you've got."

The card players nodded. Zephon wondered if having an audience would make the SeeDs uncomfortable.

_All out...Hmm. Quistis, definitely, otherwise it'd be unfair. T-Rexaur. BGH251F2. Biggs/Wedge. And..._

There was one card in his deck Zephon never, ever voluntarily used in combat. A limited edition printing of Marcus Schwert. He and Thrustaevis had paid for it to be printed, when they were nine, literally starving for the privilege. They'd intended to present it to Marcus for his birthday, but the printing, prominently displaying barbed hooks instead of hands, had only depressed him. It remained a good card, though, Level 8 on three sides, with a weak Level 2 underside. He never liked using it, but...

_What's the worst that can happen? If he wins, he'll take Quistis. _

Murmurs from the crowd as he laid out his cards. He glanced towards Sword's deck, and clenched his fists under the table.

Ifrit, Fire Demon. Shiva, Ice Queen. Quezacoatl, Thunder God. Morpheus, the Dreamlord. And...

"Aw, you played me!" Whip hugged Sword in his peripheral vision.

Trepie 13, Juliet. Two sides Level 9, Two Level 4s.

He couldn't beat a hand that powerful. Murmurs of sympathy from the onlookers as Zephon's ultimate hand was systematically demolished. Perfect Game.

The Galbadian's armour crashed against the back of his chair. He'd kept that card without a mishap for eight years.

_I should've kept it separate. In a safe. Sorry, Dad. I'm so sorry._

"Another game?" More murmurs. A perfect loser rarely asked for a rematch. He wanted to ask for a return to random draws, but the barman probably wouldn't allow it.

Sword shrugged. "I've got what I wanted now. You play a great game of cards, it's been a long time since I had to bulldoze someone."

The barman looked at him. "Sorry, son. That card means something to you?"

Zephon ignored him. "Come on, please! I played you! I'll even play Balamb rules!"

The silence hit like a Meteor.

* * *

**Please review, complements not compulsory. I never really bothered with Triple Triad when I played the game, so I can't guarantee accuracy. A Fastitocalon is a type of monster that hides under sand.**


	9. Street Fighter

**Street Fighter**

Sword stood.

"We're leaving."

Machine Gun waved at him. "Settle down. It's just a card game, no need to get offended."

"_Just _a card game? Don't you−"

"I understand fine. Tell you what, take thirteen and go for a walk, clear your head. I know you've got some catching up to do. We'll be here."

Zephon glanced at them. "Hang on, folks, I owe you a round after a match like that."

"We wouldn't want to trouble you..."

"It's no trouble...the bill goes to the Galbadian army. Won't wasting Deling's money give you a nice warm feeling inside?"

Their eyes slitted instantly, but Zephon couldn't bring himself to care. He was dead already.

"Nah, we'd really best be going."

"Yeah? To 'clear your head'? Is that so urgent? You just raped my deck, the least you can do is stay talk to me a while, come on!"

"Hey, hey, no need to get pissed at me, you knew what you were getting into when you agreed to play me."

"That's true..." Hammer said, eyes settling on the G-Soldier. "You knew _exactly _what you were doing. I've got to wonder...why? You had to know."

"I had a pretty good idea. But what was my other option?"

The SeeD glanced towards the stairs. "Yeah, ok...I can respect that." Pause. "Card game?"

Zephon laughed, and it wasn't hysteria. "To tell the truth, I've kinda lost my appetite for cards right now."

The SeeDs smiled. "Not surprising."

The G-Soldier looked around, noticed that Sword and Whip were gone. He stood.

"I'd have liked to stay longer, but I guess there's no point. I'm serious about that round, it's not like it'll make a difference for me."

"We might just take you up on that. Good night."

Zephon slid back his chair. A Galbadian military issue sword was leaning against the back of it.

_When did that happen? One of them's risked a court-martial for me. Oh well._ He sheathed the weapon, prompting murmurs.

The G-Soldier went downstairs. After approximately a minute, the SeeDs followed. They hadn't taken the offer.

The barman snorted "I bet they thought they were being so subtle." He waved at a bouncer. "Give them five minutes, then call the garrison. 7/1 against the Galbadian for anyone's interested."

000000000000000

Zephon reached the street unscathed, turning right, the opposite direction to the Comm Tower. Now he was in the open, he was a fair target. A GF could take him down at any moment. Might as well try to stay alive.

**_Thu-thumb. Thu- thumb. Thu-thumb._**

_Well, I haven't been obliterated as soon as I stepped out of the bar. This is going well._

He broke into a jog. Lacked subtlety, but what the hell. The more attention he drew, the less likely the SeeDs would be to take him on. It was only nine at night, there were still people on the streets, if not many. He could circle around, or even go to ground somewhere in the city...no, no one would harbour a G-Soldier who'd recently been involved in a military attack on the town. But he had a chance.

Jogging, he ran headlong into a Protect spell cast along an archway, barring the road ahead.

"Ha! I was right!" Sword SeeD stepped through the barrier from the other side. His sword was drawn. "Someone who plays cards like you would never take the direct route!" A second Protect settled over the street behind Zephon.

_Protect, fixed to the walls, forms a barrier. Interesting... _

**_Thu thumb. Thu-thumb thu-thumb thu- thumb._**

_I am about to die. _

Sword allowed the Galbadian to gain his feet. Zephon took a step back.

_He won't use GFs, they'll cause too much damage. This'll be sword on sword._

_...I have a chance._

His new Galbadian sword was lighter and thinner than his first issue. Probably a good thing.

_So, how does this SeeD fight? He has Protect stocked, but he didn't cast one on himself...why?_

The SeeD took a step forward, taking a guard stance.

_Guard stance? Defensive! He's taking me seriously as a threat!_

Galbadian sword met custom SeeD weapon. The impact jarred all the way to Zephon's shoulders, knocking him back a step. An overhand slash became a cross slash to the base of the Galbadian's ribs with a twist of the wrists. Zephon caught the feint just in time, but his awkward block caught the full junction assisted strength of the SeeD's attack, forcing him to either drop his sword or break his wrist. Taking the first option, he had no defence against the follow up thrust, which plunged into his right shoulder, taking him off his feet. In midair, he shrieked "Blind!"

_Three clashes. Three fucking clashes. That's not even a full pass._

He landed hard on his wounded shoulder, and screamed. Everything went white for an instant. He was a full four seconds getting up. Holding his shoulder, he saw the SeeD in a defence stance...a real one this time. A bubble of black smog surrounded his face. An idiot would have followed up on his initial strike and hoped for the best...and been cut, against a better opponent who'd held onto his weapon, but the SeeD had done exactly the right thing in normal circumstances. Zephon was willing to bet his eyes were closed within that smoke cloud, junction enhanced senses straining for signs of his opponent.

Zephon Schwert reached inside his armour, withdrawing the reinforced sheath for Marcus' Chef's Knife. His shoulder stung, but the SeeD's strike had been slowed by the armour, and he could still use his arm.

_Two Chocobo race, SeeD... No sure bets._ He controlled his breathing.

"Blind? That's not G-Army Issue, is it? Or are you a Paratrooper in disguise?"

_Don't speak. He wants to know where you are._

Sidestep_. I'd better not be directly in front of him_

"Smart. Not that it matters." Sword reached into his jacket, withdrawing a small bottle and a dropper.

_Eye drops...which he needs both hands to administer. It's another invitation. He wants me to charge...and I have to. If he gets his sight back, I'm fucked._

Sidestep.

"Thunder!"

"Shell!" _Bolt from the blue. That'll get seen. And the garrison will come running. _"Thunder!" Zephon began running directly at the SeeD, Knife in his good hand. "Thunder!" The Shell flared again.

_Even if you Eyedrop yourself, you can't see through your barrier while it's taking hits. _"Thunder!" _And all I need is one cut._ "Thunder!" _Just one. _"Thunder!" _Come on._

Three paces from the SeeD, he stepped on his dropped sword. The hesitation was enough –the SeeD sidestepped just before the Galbadian reached him, sword striking across the soldier's chest. Zephon was knocked back, but this time he kept his feet. The SeeD smiled through the inky smoke bubble. Zephon's charge had forced him to drop the bottle, at least.

Zephon glanced down. His grip on the Chef's Knife wavered. The thing was much too dangerous to just have to hand in combat. He'd missed his chance. Sheathing the knife, he resecured the ties holding it in the sheath. He'd already lived far longer than he'd expected, so anything further was a benefit. He backed off rapidly, scooping up his sword en route.

_Where are you, city garrison? _

The SeeD hissed through his teeth. "Draw...stock!"

Zephon felt nine Thunder spells evaporate from his mind, and snarled.

"You...You...fucking...SNATCHER!"

"Thunder!" Galbadian military issue swordpoint rose to intercept the bolt, electricity running down the blade to negate against the weapon's insulated crossguard.

" Fire!" Flames licked the SeeD's shell, winking out almost instantly.

"Thunder!" Blocked. The SeeD missed a step. "That should at least be hurting you. What's going−Blizzard!" The Galbadian stumbled backwards, barely avoiding the ice ball that formed above him. He hadn't reacted so quickly to that one...talking had masked the SeeD's magic for slightly longer than might otherwise have been possible.

"Thundara!" Zephon blocked the left fork of the attack, but the second impacted hard just above his right hip, blasting him to one side. Rolling with the landing despite the scream from his shoulder, a piece of shrapnel from the Blizzard that followed nicked his cheek. The Galbadian gained his feet with some effort this time, his breathing now ragged and clearly audible.

"That one hurt you. Seriously, how the hell are you still alive?"

"You...left...thirteen...to take the...other four on her own?"

"She can handle it."

"You...sure? I'm still...here...and, the, the garrison...should be here soon."

"You don't sound like you'll last much longBlizzara!" The Ice Lance almost skewered him, but a rolling dive avoided the worst of it.

"TicktockticktockFire!

"Reflect!"

"Shit!" His own Fire spell, reflected at double strength, knocked Zephon off his feet again. His helmet struck sparks off the stone street.

"Aw...fuck." He raised his head. Sword was standing still, inky black cloud still in place. The Galbadian raised himself onto his elbows.

_How the hell am I still alive?_

He sat up. No movement from his opponent.

_No attack? That's...odd. Nothing?_

Sword...stood still. Zephon gained his feet, his head still ringing. Nothing from the SeeD. Zephon took a step towards him, then froze.

_There's a summon coming. He's about to tear apart this part of the city to get to me. What do I do?_

A glance over his shoulder. He couldn't see the Protect spell behind him, but he wouldn't, not unless it was activated. Or it could have worn off by now.

_I cast that Blind just after the Protect...so when it fades, I'll know the Barrier is gone. It's probably still there._

"Ticktockticktock." And the SeeD smiled.

Zephon started running...towards the SeeD, free hand fumbling with the ties of the Chef's knife. "Fire! Fire!" Ready for the deflections this time, Zephon could dodge around his rebounded magics, closing fast on the mercenary. Failing to free his knife on time, Zephon's armoured weight crashed directly into his target.

The impact was much like striking a tree, but Zephon drove his good arm at the Seed's face. "Draw...Cast Shell! Fire!" The Fire Spell, Reflected, propelled Zephon back beyond the SeeD's immediate reach, which his own Shell, falling into place, prevented serious damage. He actually landed on his feet as the SeeD faded from view.

"**Thunder Storm."**

_Oh. Shit!_

_._

A bolt of Lightning struck the centre of the street in front of him, with enough force to crack the stone. And Quezacoatl, the Thunder God, grew from its centre, spinning into being in the Dollet Street. She was beautiful, a colossal white bird with lightning crackling from her muzzle and wings. A single flap of those huge wings, and just the force of that caused the Galbadian to miss a step.

_My ankles are wet...hope that's not blood. This definitely won't go unnoticed, everyone's gonna know SeeD are in town. Or is that the point, SeeD? _

Quezacoatl spat electricity, and Zephon raised his sword to block it. There were far too many bolts for one sword to negate, but his stolen Shell repelled the rest. Abandoning the attempt, the deflected bolts rose around him in an expanding dome.

_What? Was that all?_

He looked up and scrambled towards the side of the street as a bolt of pure white electrical energy descended. And Struck. His Shell ignited as Zephon tried futilely to shelter under one of the eaves. He felt his nose, jaw and ribs crack as he was thrown hard against the Protect.

_Well Fuck._

Dimly, he heard the SeeD curse, but when he opened his eyes everything was white.

_That. Fucking. Hurt._

_000000000000000000_

* * *

**Hmm...it wasn't a direct hit, but Zephon still seems to have a pretty high HP count. Up to now I tried not to make him _too _overpowered, so sorry about this. Hopefully this's still somewhat believable. Regards to my reviewers. Nemjay, I have absolutely no intention of abandoning this story (or any of the others, incidentally), but I won't necessarily update regularly either. I'm glad you're still reading...if you really like it, please tell me what I'm going wrong, legitimate criticisms are the best kind of feedback. Please review, complements not compulsory. Sorry this is so short.**


	10. Returning Hero?

Couple of clarifications first: In previous chapters, I made mention of 'Major Wedge'. Wedge is actually the bodyguard, the Major in charge of the Dollet attack was Biggs. Second, only the medics in the Dollet army are stocked with magic, which is why none of them used it in the battle (my interpretation, not canon.)

**Returning Hero?**

As it turned out, it wasn't the GF that hurt him the most. His stolen Shell and last minute dodge were enough that he avoided the worst of it. There was still enough charge to make his every muscle spasm, though, and he ended up launching himself headfirst into a stone wall, snapping his nose and jaw.

_Ow..._

It was unlikely the Seed would assume he'd survive a Quetzalcoatl. Zephon still wasn't entirely sure how he had, but there was an even chance the SeeD wouldn't bother making sure, not with the sirens drawing near.

And then someone was there...

"Alive? Huh? That was definitely Queazy. How−"

"Don't move him."

"So, what have we got here... The SeeD's long gone. Of course. So, we going to arrest this guy?"

"For what? Being unconscious, while it's frowned upon in polite society, does not in itself constitute a crime. And he's Galbadian. Something's wrong. Carol, take a look at him."

"Wrong?"

"Why would a Seed throw out Queazy on a Dollet Street? It's like a giant floating sign 'SeeD is here.' No Galbadian fights a SeeD unless there's no other option, not alone. What just happened? Hey, you, if you can hear me, snap your fingers." He found he couldn't make the noise, but his fingers moving seemed to be enough for the speaker. "So, you were attacked by SeeD...using a GF. Why?"

"If he was Galbadian, he'd be dead. Esthar?"

"Everyone blames Esthar for anything mysterious. ...Still, who knows?

...We'll send him back to the Galbadians. If he's Esthar, or SeeD, they'll know. And if he's Galbadian, well, they'll be glad to get him back, right? Honestly, guys, we can't afford to piss them off, they could snap us up any time they want to."

"Ugh...fine. Cure!"

His Shell activated.

"Oh, I see. That's how you survived. I didn't know Galbadian infantry were issued with Shell. Not bad. Draw...Stock."

_Fuck you! _He didn't need to speak to convey that sentiment, at least. The last remnants of his Thunder disappeared.

"Wait a second...he's not carrying Shells, just the basic attack spells and Blind. Cheap bastard."

"Guys, what have I said about mugging passed out people?"

"You said passed out civilians. He's military."

"You sure?"

"Scan!"

Pause. "His name's Zephon. **Galbadian soldier**. 'Prefers to attack with magic.'"

_I have got to get some of those. Note to self: Ask Dad if I see him again._

"Well, that's that answered. So...think he can walk?"

"Probably. Painfully. But there's no need to make him suffer, is there?"

"He's Galbadian."

"Good point."

0000000

Morning found Zephon in the medical station in the Dollet Communications tower. After binding his jaw, the Dollet soldiers had made him walk (until his eventual collapse) to the edge of Galbadian territory. He was lucky they hadn't accidentally dropped him over a cliff, really. The escort made any renewed SeeD attack unlikely, however− he found out later that Miranda had gone straight to the Dollet city garrison and asked for an escort to take the other squad members home −Dollet had reluctantly obliged, as dead Galbadians on their streets would give the G-Army a reason to renew their assault on the city.

The walk reopened his shallow shoulder wound from the SeeD's sword, and he found himself lightheaded by the time he got to the tower, to the point where he'd at one stage dipped a finger in his stab wound in order to scrawl 'I was here' on the elevator shaft. The Galbadians who escorted him from the border had been suitably alarmed by this, and insisted he defer giving his report until he'd been treated. Writing lefthanded, it was close to illegible, so he was sitting on his cot looking up military hand-signals in case he was asked for clarification.

The morning news had revealed a number of interesting facts, thanks to the tower's deep cable connection to the city. The previous night, the Dollet Dukedom Parliament's Finance Minister had been assassinated in his sleep. A walnut had been found under his pillow. SeeD were not happy about Dollet's defaulting on their contract, but an illegal entity couldn't enforce a legal contract in any court, leaving them with only the more direct methods of negotiation.

This meant the SeeDs in Dollet had probably been there with that mission in mind, rendering Zephon's actions the night before unnecessary. Security at the tower had been stepped up regardless, due to another news item. Much to everyone's surprise, President Vinzer Deling had not been feinting when he ordered the G-Army to take Dollet's Comm. Tower. He actually intended to use it to make an international broadcast. After seventeen solid years of radio interference, techs had learned to counter its effects slightly. Vinzer Deling would have less than four minutes before his broadcast was swallowed. A massive military offensive...for a four minute broadcast. Even more mystifying, the broadcast would be made in Timber, a town infamous for being saturated with anti-Galbadia Resistance Cells. Granted, Timber was one of the only places to still have a radio compatible TV station, but said station hadn't been used in fifteen years, meaning that a massive cleanup and security operation would be in full swing over the next two weeks.

"Hi Mom" would not go down well with the army.

Someone knocked at his door, and then a visored soldier entered.

"Got back okay I see. You have something belonging to me." It was Tess. Zephon stepped out of his cot and genuflected, extending her sword hilt towards her.

**(Deference) Thank you.**

"You're welcome."

**Rescue Twice in Half Hour. Repayment (Query)**

Cocked head. He handed her the hand signal booklet.

Eventually: "I accept gold or the blood of your firstborn."

Pause.

"Seriously, don't worry about it. We're in the army, it's not like it's a rare event."

Pause.

"You chipped the blade! What did you do, attack a tree?"

**Sword.**

"What?"

Footsteps.

"Anyway, be seeing you. Don't die."

_I'll try._

Wedge came for his report, but due to his broken jaw, the written version had to suffice. Zephon's injuries were just serious enough for him to be sent home to Galbadia for treatment. His electrical burns needed skin grafting, but the main reason he was sent away was to prevent the Dollet Government from trying to extradite him for interrogation. Wedge personally wrote a letter of recommendation to whatever garrison he was to be reassigned to, deploring his tendency to 'do a Loire' but stating that Zephon Schwert was an acceptably competent soldier.

Major Biggs did not write anything. He was in disgrace after unleashing the Black Widow for unnecessary personal revenge, and was going to be first in line for a demotion when things settled further. If not for his significant mechanical skills, he'd already be gone. And with the broadcast announced, the Comm. Tower would be a target for sabotage.

It was time to get out of Dollet.

000000

Zephon slid his hand along the top of the doorframe, retrieving the key from its crevice. There were three set into the surface, the other two containing Sharp Spikes hammered into the wood. Letting himself inside, he found Marcus facing the door, spiked prosthetic in hand.

"What are you doing here? You shouldn't be home yet."

**Injury. **His father blinked.

"Been a long time since I've seen someone do that. Crap, what was it again?" He disappeared briefly, returning with a booklet of his own. "Hopefully they haven't changed too much. Anyway, you're bandaged, so that one was probably 'injury'. I'm right?"

**Agreement/Yes/Assent/Orders Accepted.**

"Oh, I remember _that _one. Why so late? The war wounded should have already returned, where have you been?"

**Triple Triad. **That the military handsignals of the Galbadian army specifically included one representing TT said a lot about their collective mindset.

"What?"

"I got into a fight over a card game." His jaw was still supposed to be bound for another three days, but he'd sliced the wires when he realised he was going to be discharged. No need for Thrustaevis to panic. It was still bandaged, and he planned on speaking as little as possible, but his jaw hadn't unhinged yet. Besides, he needed to practice the handsignals.

"...Are you serious?"

**Agreement/Yes/Assent/Orders Accepted.** "What does 'do a Loire' mean?"

Marcus Schwert arched back over his chair, barbed prosthetics flaring wide as he struggled to control laughter.

"Hwahaha...What did you do?"

"I told you."

"What kind of fight? Obviously you didn't draw a sword on him, or you'd have been detained...Can you tell me?"

**Disagreement/No/Proposal Rejected/Negative Response. **"Sorry."

"...Whatever. To 'do a Loire' my beloved child, is 'an idiotic action with ultimately beneficial consequences'. Named after a dude called Laguna. Never met him myself, but he was supposed to be fucking hilarious. Used to volunteer to go on these extended patrols deep into enemy territory, and cut them short so he could go leer at some pianist in Galbadia Hotel. Julia Heartily, you might have heard of her. 'Eyes on Me' is everywhere nowadays. Anyway, he got away with it for years, but on one of those patrols, he stumbled across an Esthari research facility where they were developing a superweapon Galbadia knew nothing about at the time. Three Galbadians wiped out five squads of Esthari soldiers cutting a path to the coast. Because one of our sergeants was an idiot, the generals found out about Lunatic Pandora, which stopped Adel from using it and saved thousands of lives. They also cut a hole in a secure enemy base, and triggered a massive pursuit that we were able to exploit tactically.

"The only problem was, one of Laguna's soldiers was permanently maimed in their escape, and Laguna was mauled too, so he was discharged from service.

"Does that make sense to you?"

**Agreement/Yes/Assent/Orders Accepted. **"Sort of." _Okay, the card game was idiotic, but did it really have good consequences? I just wasted my time. _He moved aside a stack of newspapers _–Newspapers? When did we start getting those?−_ and sat down. "Where's T?"

"Shopping, I think. Why, have you a dark secret?"

**Disagreement/No/Proposal Rejected/Negative Response. End Statement.**

**Announcement. **"Clash of TV broadcasts."

Pause. Then: "Oh, Deling's broadcast, right. What do you think he'll say?"

Zephon shrugged.

There was a clatter from the doorway. Zephon stood and answered it to find his sister holding a small TV with a newspaper balanced on top of it.

_Sixteen flights of stairs..._

She almost dropped it on seeing him. "What are you doing− What happened to your− When?"

"Dad?"

"He got into a fight over a card game. Meaning he's being monosyllabic today. Where'd you get the TV?"

"Deling is giving them out for free. He wants to make sure everyone sees the broadcast. I figure we can sell it on in a few months."

_Free TVs...He must be throwing a ridiculous amount of money into this. What's so important about this broadcast that he NEEDS everyone to see it. And on radio too! Radio...we have cable connections to everywhere...except Esthar. _

_..._

…_It couldn't be._

_He can't be declaring war on Esthar, he CAN'T be. _

"What's wrong? Yeah, I know they'll be everywhere by then, but it'll still be worth something."

"...It's nothing. Uh...I do have a confession to make, though. I lost Dad's card."

She hugged him. "Hence the fight? Oh, you twat, no one ever cared about that but you."

_Ouch._

He reached into a pocket and handed something to her. A cheque for 16,000 gil, courtesy of Vinzer Deling...he'd been paid for his first four months in the army, including training. Her expression was glorious.

She left to cash it in and meet various debts, leaving Zephon to brood.

_If I'm going to desert, I need to move now, but, how can I? Maybe he's just announcing...what? A tax hike? Making Triple Triad an illegal practice? What could be this important? Any idiot knows you make your declaration of war _**after**_ your first strike._

_What are you doing, Deling? _

_Oh, fuck it, who cares? No matter what he announces, it won't be 'Peace and Love.'_

_Even I know that. _

_

* * *

_

**_The assassination is completely my invention. But it could have happened. Please review, compliments not compulsory._**


	11. Onlooker

**Onlooker**

Zephon spent most of the afternoon playing with the TV settings, until could successfully find the frequency Deling's broadcast was to be made on. It was harder than it looked, since every frequency broadcast random interference. Some of it almost looked coherent. By the time Thrustaevis came back, they were just settling in to watch.

_Four minutes...What have you got to say, Vinzer?_

Marcus took the armchair, while the twins settled on the floor to either side of it.

"You're going to watch this? What if it's a hypnotic broadcast designed to turn the world into mindless slaves?"

Marcus suddenly looked at them. "That's not impossible, you know. Really, really unlikely, but it'd explain why he's going to all this effort. Maybe you two should leave the room?"

"And miss all the excitement? You know how much I love my political broadcasts. Nah, let's all be mindless sla− Wait a second. That's not just random snow interference. It's...words. Eh...'Never...Let...Me...'"

The monitor flickered into life, and Thrustaevis quieted. Her fingers clenched on the cushion she was sitting on as a microphone and lectern stuttered into view. Random techs making adjustments wasted valuable screentime, before someone –Not Vinzer Deling− stepped in front of the mike.

"**T- Testing. 1...2 ...Testing..."**

"I don't believe it, that guys' still alive! Used to be a newsanchor before they shut down Timber TV. Rebel propagandist."

"Looks like he changed his mind with the restoration." Zephon said, watching the announcer's teary eyes.

"**Ohhh! P- People of the World! Can you see me? Can you hear me?"**

"The time has come to strike back at our evil Galbadian oppressors!"

"Shut up, Thrustaevis!"

"Sorry Dad."

"**Oh, this is incredible! Ladies and Gentlemen, this is not a recording! This is an actual broadcast over the air! Yes, it's been seventeen years since a live broadcast has been possible..."**

_Yeah, and people died to make this possible! Get on with it!_

A glance to one side as the announcer was prompted by someone offscreen. Visibly clamping down on his emotions, the announcer coughed.

"**Oh, please excuse me... I seem to have lost my composure. We would like to present to you today a message from the lifelong President of Galbadia, Vinzer Deling. Ladies and Gentlemen, President Deling."**

"And thus, I have achieved the purpose of my existence."

The screen flickered as interference tried to swallow the broadcast. President Deling stepped up to the mike. Somewhere else in the apartment building, someone whistled at him, and all three Schwerts pitched forward laughing.

"**-of Galbadia. Today I stand before you to make the following proposition."**

"Good, he's not wasting time." Marcus looked at his son, but said nothing in response.

"**We, the people of this world, have the power to end all wars."**

A glance around revealed great unease appearing on Marcus' face.

_Where is this going?_

"**Unfortunately, there are some trifling problems standing between Galbadia and other nations, and they must be resolved."**

A noise from off camera. Deling began speaking more rapidly.

"**I plan to convene with other nation's leaders immediately to resolve these problems."**

_Huh?_

"**At this time, allow me to introduce the ambassador who will be my representative for the conference."**

"Seems like a lot of trouble to go to. Who do you think it'll be, Dad?"

"Hard to tell. Someone everyone in the world can trust?"

"**The ambassador is the Sorceress."**

Shrieks from above and below. Marcus was white.

More bangs from offscreen, and then someone in a white coat burst into view, sword −_No, that's a gunblade−_ snapping around as two Galbadian soldiers closed on him.

"Seifer?" Thrustaevis said, eyes wide.

'Seifer' was grabbed from behind by a Galbadian, but shrugged off the grip in order to lay a blade on President Deling's throat. One Galbadian went down with slash wounds, toppling backwards into the camera, forcing it back from the podium and onto its side. And then−

"Quistis?"

Marcus looked at them.

"Do I want to know how both my children are on first name terms with international terrorists?"

"Card Game."

"Magazines."

"Are you sure, Thrus?"

"**Stay back!" **Quistis screamed at the guards

She cocked her head. "Zephon, he looks awesome, dresses like that, and caused a riot last time he was in town. I'm sure. You?"

"**For the last time, stay back! You're only going to provoke him!"**

"Pretty. The card was played against me, and it was powerful enough that I took an interest."

Thrustaevis smiled. "Oh yeah, I'm sure that was the _only _reason."

"**Timber Team, are you watching? Get over here right now!"**

"She's calling for reinforcements. This is odd, doesn't look like a planned hit." Marcus.

"**You HAVE permission! I need your help!**

The screen faded back into interference. Thrustaevis dove for the TV, switching to domestic cable settings, which the same broadcast was being aired on as a back up in case of technical difficulty. Deling was taking his situation well under the circumstances.

"**Do you really expect to escape unharmed?"**

"So, that guy's called Seifer, huh? I've always wanted one of those coats. What happened to his face?"

"Face?" She took a closer look at the screen. "Someone mutilated Seifer! He's much too pretty to scar, how dare they?"

"That's not an accident." Marcus said, leaning forwards. "That cut's from something sharp, a knife, a sword, a piece of shrapnel. A straight cut across the bridge of the nose...that would have stung. Poor kid. If he wasn't, y'know holding the Prez at swordpoint, I'd feel sorry for him. Using a gunblade too."

The gunblade was widely acclaimed as the most needlessly over complicated weapon since Esthar's infamous Sword-Boomerang-Pickaxe-Shotgun. In the right hands they were deadly, but the right hands were extremely rare. There was even dispute over how the things actually worked, some said they fired ammunition from the tip of the, some said an explosion inside caused vibrations. Whatever happened, very precise timing was necessary to properly use the trigger function...it was ridiculously easy to press it at the wrong time and end up breaking your index finger on impact. Which left them a weapon many found to dangerous to use.

"**I would urge my citizens to remain calm at this time. I have no doubt that I will remain unharmed."**

Zephon looked at his sister. "Card Game?"

"Nah. Dad, I'll lay the field if you want to play."

"Uhh...Kids, the president is at swordpoint..."

"Yes, and he's just given me a direct order to remain calm! As civic minded citizens, we have no choice but to obey. And I'm in the army, so that applies to me especially!"

"Hahaha...Aw, I love you. Okay, lay the field."

Thrustaevis suddenly giggled. "Looks like the guards think like you do, Zephon, they've left the studio." Indeed, no further guards could be seen onscreen, and no one had even thought to turn off the camera.

"Tis a black day for Presidential security. He just waltzed in."

Another gunblade wielder, this one in a black fur coat, suddenly stepped into view.

"Hey, he's got a scar too! Must be some kind of, like, badge of rank or something."

"He looked so good they had to disfigure him...bet it was a guy did it."

A girl in a minidress and a blonde, muscled boy with a face tattoo appeared.

"How in hell did they get there so fast? They must have been right outside the studio. But, if they were backup, why is Quistis so upset?"

"**We need to restrain him!"**

"And right now, you're thinking 'Please do', right T?"

She blushed, but there was no guilt in it. "Interesting how quickly that occurred to _you."_

"Aw, come on. Don't be ridiculous now."

"**What do you think you're doing?"**

"'How dare you leave me like this, I've been worried sick! You didn't call, you didn't write...'"

"Oh, Hyne...I'm related to a shipper. What the hell, T?"

"**It's obvious, ain't it? What are you planning to do with this guy!"**

"Planning?"

"I think I get it. Furcoat's team were planning to disrupt the broadcast, but then Longcoat...Uh, Seifer? Is that his name? He jumped the gun, and now Furcoat's pissed at losing his glory." Marcus.

"**...Planning to do?"**

"He looks confused, Dad. I don't know..."

"Oh my God, he fucking facepalmed!"

"Thrustaevis, please calm down. Lives may be at stake here."

"Just President Deling's."

"...Touche." Zephon had rarely seen his father smile like that.

_Wait...wasn't Quistis a SeeD? So...these plans...they're all SeeDs!_

"**I get it! You're Rinoa's−"**

"**Shut your damned mouth, chicken-wuss!"**

_Pretty unprofessional for SeeD. I mean, chicken-wuss? Really?_

"Wait...he just said Rinoa!"

Thrustaevis nodded. "Yeah. General Caraway's daughter. They dated. But how does that other guy know−"

"General Caraway's daughter is acquainted with people attempting to assassinate President Deling? Fury, you poor bastard."

"Maybe it someone with that name...how many people know this, T?"

"Uh, well...it's not on everyone's lips or anything, but it's no secret either. Couldn't tell you."

"**He broke out of the disciplinary room, injuring many in the process."**

_Injured SeeDs! Yay! _

Furcoat still had one hand covering his face, which must have taken a lot of effort to keep up for so long. Tattoo boy was shaking.

"**YOU STUPID IDIOT!"**

"**Be quiet!"**

"**INSTRUCTOR, I KNOW!"**

_Instructor?_

"**You're going to take this stupid idiot back to Garden, right?**

"**SHUT UP! NO!"**

"GOT YOU!" Zephon howled, rising to his knees and punching the air. "We FINALLY fucking got you! Suck on that, SeeD! See you soon!"

"**I see...so you're all from Garden." **Deling had not lived this long by being slow on the uptake. Tattoo boy appeared to be close to vomiting.

_Come on, Seifer. Kill him. Kill him now._

"**Should anything happen to me, the entire Galbadian military will undoubtedly crush Garden."**

"With pleasure, Vinny." _Kill him. Kill him. Kill him!_

"**You can let go of me now."**

Marcus laughed. "Oh my God. Ballsy, isn't he?"

Seifer unleashed a string of abuse, then backed out of the room, leaving his teammates to **'take care of this mess'**

Instructor Trepe followed, along with the rest of the gang. For a while, the camera rolled on an empty room, until a tech stepped in and turned the camera off with a gloriously sarcastic "**I think that's all, folks!"**

Thrustaevis sat back. "What just happened?"

"That, is a very good question. A lot will depend now on whether Deling walks away or not."

Zephon snapped his head towards his father. "Think he will?"

"Hard to know. He's always been a slippery fucker. Now, if it was me, I'd take him hostage somewhere and ask for amnesty, but with SeeD you can never tell. They might think they're capable of going toe to toe with the army and walking away."

"Zephon?"

"Hmm?"

"Why are you so happy?"

"What? Me?"

"You."

"I thought he was going to declare war on Esthar with this broadcast. I'm glad I'm not going to war."

"Lying." She didn't even pause to weigh his answer.

"Ok, fine. SeeD have been biting us for a long time. Now that we know where they come from, they'll have to settle down a little."

"Or go for the throat."

_Not likely...but...it is possible._ His sister swept her hair across her face, looking down.

"Hey, come on, Deling's not dead yet."

"And you're hoping he'll die soon, right?"

"Since when have you cared about him?"

"I don't...I just think it's a little sad that you're so eager to go to war." She stood.

"I'm not! Thrustaevis, listen to me! SeeD are mercenaries who've been tearing chunks out of the Galbadian army for years! If we can deal with them now, in one battle, we can stop it all for good."

"How do you know they're SeeD? Why not Timber Resistance?"

_Very good question. I can't tell her I fought a SeeD who played this card, can I?_

She stood and left. Zephon looked down. The armchair creaked.

"You have a reason to believe that, right?"

"Yeah. I do."

"I heard there was a GF explosion in Dollet a couple of weeks back...I won't ask questions."

Pause.

"What about this new ambassador?"

Marcus blinked. "Oh, I forgot about her. Sorceress Edea. It's a brave move if Deling can pull it off, but I don't know how he can force her to obey him without weakening her powers. The army generals will be dead set against this, but they have too many scars from the last sorceress to face her directly."

"Dad. Who. Is. Sorceress. Edea."

"Oh, sorry! Edea Kramer, formerly of Esthar. You know Odine used to experiment on Sorceresses? Well, if he was trying something dangerous, he wasn't allowed experiment on Adel, so he did on her pet Sorceress, Edea, who wasn't nearly as powerful. She's the one he tested the Odine Bangles on. This went on for years, but then an Esthar Soldier snuck her out of Odine's lab, brought her over here. Edea knew if Adel took over the world she'd be put back in the lab, so she fought for the Galbadian Army. That's why it's called the Sorceress War and not the Esthar War. Edea wasn't nearly powerful enough to face Adel directly, but she took out a lot of subordinates and made things much easier for us in general. Once the war was done, the Galbadian public was still just a little scared of Sorceresses, so Edea married the soldier and went to Centra. Said she'd try to heal the wounds the other sorceress had created, and prove that not every Sorceress was evil. Ended up setting up an orphanage...and believe me, there was a lot of orphans after the war."

Marcus rubbed his nose. "I don't get what he's thinking. Deling isn't stupid. The results of this could be great if he does it right, but it's very, _very_ risky. No one likes Sorceresses, so she'll be good at intimidating, but they'll fight any aggression all the harder. Unless he's going to use her as a counterweight to SeeD, but... I don't know, it's really dangerous. Esthar hates Sorceresses even more than we do, what if they attack?"

"All hail Ambassasor-Sorceress Edea!"

Marcus looked at him. "Say that again and I'll Silence you. What are you up to, Vinny? You've just alienated your subordinates, but the Sorceress' support might be enough. ...Oh! Shit."

"What?"

"He's going to try to use the Sorceress to eliminate his rivals within Galbadia. Edea's not Adel, but it's going to take courage to challenge her. Zephon?"

"Hmm?"

" I'm scared. Be careful, okay?"

* * *

_Regarding Thrustaevis' attitude, she's primarily joking, while acknowledging the inherent prettiness of all Final Fantasy protagonists. 'Fury' is apparently General Caraway's first name._


	12. Duellist

**Duellist**

The ceiling needed replastering. Zephon made a mental note to tell ask Thrustaevis about it later.

So, President Vinzer Deling had appointed Sorceress Edea Kramer as his ambassador to the world. A new position, made in an irreversible public broadcast. What did that mean for him?

Even Marcus, who could usually be relied upon to give a fair account of Galbadian politics, wasn't sure what the outcome was going to be. The only thing he said he could guarantee was "Blood." Just that. Deling was trying to use the Sorceress to make his power utterly secure. The Galbadian Generals would not be keen on that, not after the havoc the last Sorceress had wrought.

And the Galbadian army? Best case scenario, the imbalance would be resolved before they got involved.

Worst, protracted, bloody civil war, with the Galbadian army right in the middle and fighting for both sides. If that happened, Zephon resolved that he'd just go home and hide until the dust settled. Just as difficult as it sounded. But, whatever happened, the future would likely be messy.

Sitting up on his bed, Zephon drew the Chef's Knife from inside his jacket.

_With this...I can take anything down. Anything at all. _

_...But that didn't help me against that SeeD, did it? All I needed was one cut, but I couldn't even do that. One Cut! One! No one's ever beaten me that badly._

He drove the point into the headboard. Scratched 'I am still here' and the date.

_I can't delude myself. I'm not even a bit player. I can't make any real difference. And for fuck's sake be more careful with that knife. _

Retrieving the weapon, he sheathed it and secured the bindings. He wouldn't take it to garrison duty, as it was unlikely he'd need to kill someone, so he stowed it in a drawer, after writing ' Do NOT touch: Extremely dangerous' on the outside of the sheath. He wondered vaguely where the Tonberries kept the things at night.

He was due back at Deling City garrison tomorrow. Not having a sword would quickly become a problem, something he'd need to remedy quickly.

Galbadian military swords were contraband, unless they were sourced from a veteran. Unfortunately, Marcus' sword had been destroyed with his arms, and veterans as a rule tended to hang onto their weapons. The army didn't want soldiers selling off their swords, and then claiming replacements from Galbadia's stores. He had the option of using his own, if he so wished, but he didn't have the funds for a highly enhanced version. It was incredibly difficult to find a basic broadsword style weapon...plenty of shops would enhance blades with spare Mesmerize Blades or whatever, but a simple, basic broadsword frame was another question.

Eventually realising he was thinking in circles, he moved out to the living room and flicked through the stack of newspapers. Towards the end of one of them, he found a name he recognised.

**Trevor Martin, MIA.**

He hadn't been found. Not yet, at least. The fireball to the face was clearly recognisable as a Galbadian style attack, but the SeeDs might have done more damage afterwards.

_I'm sorry, Trev. But I hope you're never identified. _Summoning fire energy to his right palm, he stared into it until a noise made him look around. The apartment's outer door opened. Thrustaevis was entering, yet again carrying bags.

"How're you doing so much shopping?"

"Zephon, you just handed me 16,000 gil. We're both still eligible for benefit, and Dad's still getting his military pension. I honestly wasn't expecting this much of a return, we're pretty fluid. Another couple of months , and we'll be mostly out of debt. So, you said you wanted a longcoat, right?"

She handed him a bag.

"I did?"

"' I've always wanted one of those coats'. So, why not get one? I didn't get a straight copy, hope you don't mind."

Grey and leathery. The coat was absurdly comfortable. He leaned back into it and closed his eyes.

"Can you do me one favour?"

"Hmm?"

"Keep getting papers." A nod. Then she looked up at him.

"How bad was it?"

"I...don't know yet." True. "I got by."

"And Deling's broadcast?"

"I don't know that either. Even Dad doesn't know."

Pause.

"So...who broke your nose?"

"I was telling the truth. That wasn't part of the battle, I just did something stupid and ended up in a fight over a card game that went wrong."

She burst out laughing. Then, abruptly, stopped. "Who picks a fight with a soldier? You were armoured at the time, right?"

"Another soldier?" It was the first response that came to mind.

She looked at him. "It wasn't a Galbadian. You wouldn't be that stupid. And I have a hard time thinking a Dollet soldier would risk starting a war over cards. So, the only other option is...SeeD. That...explains a lot. _Why_ were you playing cards with SeeDs?"

"...Mistake. It wasn't part of being a soldier, just bad luck and stupidity."

"...Have you thought about deserting?"

_Yes. _"The battle's over. It's really unlikely I'll come across SeeD again."

"But you want to, don't you?"

"Listen, T, I'd like to see SeeD brought down, if I could, but I'm not going to go looking for them either. I don't make decisions, it's not up to me where the army goes. So what I want to do or don't want to do doesn't mean a thing. There'd be no point in deserting, not until I _know _it's worthwhile."

"...Ok..."

_Hey, I finally got one past her. Sort of._

A creak from outside, before the front door floated open again.

"I've got news, kids. Deling's accepted Garden's apology. Apparently, crashing the broadcast was an independent action on the part of Seifer. He's been arrested and executed."

Zephon glanced at Thrustaevis, but she didn't react. Apparently, her reactions during the broadcast had been exaggerated for their benefit.

"...And?"

"That's all. Garden denied responsibility and Deling accepted their argument."

Zephon surged to his feet. "They're lying! They've got to be! They're ly−"

"Are you an idiot? Of course they're fucking lying! Did you expect Garden to say 'Oh yes, that was us, we tried and failed to kill the President of Galbadia'. But this gives Galbadia a _lot _of political capital. Now we know where SeeD comes from, and they know we can and will retaliate if they mess with us too much. So, no one dies, Garden is walking on eggshells, and I'm a Funguar if Galbadia's generals aren't making plans for hitting the Gardens hard, right now. This is the best possible result , Zephon, so sit down and shut up!"

He obliged. There wasn't much more to be said.

_Fuck you, Seifer. You didn't have the balls to follow through. _

_But...we know where you are now, SeeD. Have fun thinking about that. When the Galbadian army gets pissed, we're capable of a lot._

_Ask Esthar._

0000000000

Not long after the broadcast, Zephon had to return to duty. With Deling's broadcast completed, the garrison at Dollet's Comm tower was to be scaled down, meaning that they didn't need him back. Some of the troops already there would be returning soon. Wedge's letter reassigned him to Deling City's domestic garrison, DCP.

This wasn't the worst that could happen, in that he probably wouldn't much need to draw a sword on normal city patrols, but he'd need to get another one soon. Fortunately, he wasn't much of a fencer anyway.

There was a bed available for him in the city barracks, and Zephon took it. He could've just stayed at home, but just because they were relatively affluent now didn't mean he had reason to waste meals and a dorm provided at the army's expense.

The Galbadian army was legally obliged to maintain enough of a military to respond to any Esthari offensive from beyond the sealed boundary, at any time. Unfortunately, nowhere close to that many soldiers had enough duties to keep them occupied in peacetime. The army was authorised to conscript if they couldn't meet their quotas, but so far, the generous benefits attached to being in the army kept numbers to acceptable levels, if barely.

This meant that a large section of the army had virtually nothing to do, making ordinary garrison life horribly, painfully boring, except for those few who'd actually seen action before. Normal army life basically consisted of sporadic training exercises, punctuated by desperate attempts for idle soldiers to find something, _anything,_ to keep them occupied. Well managed by the commanders, this resulted in soldiers bonding closely over Triple Triad, spontaneous hockey matches, and spin the bottle where the loser had to engage in conversation with a senior officer while slipping in the word 'vortex' as often as possible.

Badly managed, the situation resulted in scuffles, bullying, and harassment of citizens.

After a massive argument spanning three squads over the correct plural form of 'vortex' ('vortices' eventually won out despite strong opposition from the 'vortexes' and 'vorti' camps) Zephon felt he was settling in nicely. Marcus had warned him that the most friction in the army occurred in dead-end garrison duty. On campaign, everyone was good to you, because you never knew who would be standing beside you once your back was to the wall. But in peacetime, the malicious ones showed their colours.

As an afterthought he had begun discreetly making enquiries as to acquiring a new sword. Legitimate means were unlikely, but sadly, Zephon had never thought to cultivate black market connections.

With Marcus' warnings in mind, he'd found himself largely exempt from the jostling for position, primarily because he just didn't care. He had only two valued possessions, the Knife and his TT deck, neither of which he kept in the barracks (although he was carrying a diluted version of his deck to pass time). And as for his new longcoat, as awesome as it was, he had no reason to wear it in the barracks or on patrol.

He was bunked in with three unfamiliar soldiers. Thrasymachus was easy enough to get along with, being practiced in apathy for anything not directly in his interest. Pheles was slightly pushier, and had his own personal lackey, Donny. The others tried the usual techniques to test the mettle of the new arrival, but Zephon had nothing that could particularly affect him. Stealing his armour or magic counted as treason, he hadn't anything he valued with him. There were inconveniences, but nothing terribly insurmountable.

So, apart from minor irritations, he settled quickly into the glorious boredom of city garrison duty. SeeD were apparently cowed. Dollet were running scared. Esthar was as silent as ever, and no one had risked open rebellion among Galbadia's military. Even Timber was quiet. Vinzer Deling was planning an absurdly lavish appointment ceremony for his new international ambassador. An open challenge to anyone who wanted to question his decision. It seemed likely that any opposition would take their chance then.

Despite the potential conflict ahead, Zephon had finally gotten some breathing space. He had a sword to worry about, and there was more trouble due soon, but for once, he had time to prepare, think, and just calm down before things went to the moon and back.

0000000

It was the card games that caused the trouble, eventually. He spent his time casing the tables, looking for decks with fairly good cards that he could nab with his diluted version, assessing individuals he could take down without much risk to his own deck. Occasionally, he was challenged, but he was able to weather most of them, and even when he lost, he didn't have many important cards with him. The only one he'd ever truly prized had been lost in Dollet.

In retrospect, maybe he should've left the people in his own dorm alone. After a trying day, he ended up challenging Donny to a card game. And gained a perfect victory. Including a card of some ranked Galbadian military officer he'd never heard of. The losing party was almost crying, his disbelief palpable, before he left the room.

The next day, in the canteen, he was approached by Pheles.

"I challenge you to a duel. I want Donny's card back."

Zephon blinked. "Cards?" He reached for the pocket on the inside of his sleeve.

"No, not cards. Swords."

_Swords? _But that was an acceptable substitute in most circumstances. It was considered bad practice to fight, say, a ten year old for their cards, but for army personnel, a challenge was treated the same way as a card challenge− devastating for the reputation to refuse without a legitimate reason. He stood up.

_Shit. Shit. Shit. _"Does anyone have one I can borrow?"

"Huh? You don't have a sword?"

"I don't carry it with me. I'm more of a mage."

"Seriously? You're in the army, and you don't carry around your weapon on duty?"

"What duty? I've done nothing since I got here."

Thrasymachus, who was at a nearby table, shrugged and extended his sword towards him, hilt first. "Don't break it."

"I'll do my best."

The two moved towards the sparring room, visors down as a slight crowd followed behind. Spars weren't exactly uncommon, but the nature of this one meant slight interest.

"You could just give the card back, you know. It'd save you the trouble."

"Play the game and lose, that's what happens. That's just how it is. If you don't want to lose a card, don't have it in your deck." Pause. "It means something to you?"

"Not me. His Dad."

"Adel?"

"Timber revolutionaries."

_Shit. Oh. _"Um..."

"Don't worry about it, I'll take it back soon."

They arrived, and set up facing each other. Zephon was more or less resigned to losing his newly won card by this point. By rights he should've given it back, but losing important cards was all part of the game, and anyone with a deck had to learn that.

"So...what are these rules? Are we playing points, or knockout/submission?"

Pheles burst out laughing. "Have you ever tried to knock someone out with a sword? It's hard." He smiled. "At least, not without causing permanent damage."

_No, he wouldn't. He couldn't._ They took their stances. Thrasymachus volunteered to be the referee.

"Best of three?" Zephon nodded, and Pheles flew at him, sword driving towards Zephon's chestplate. The clash wasn't as jarring as it had been fighting SeeD, but it was still beyond anything he'd felt in training. Retreating, he struck at Pheles' thigh. Batting Zephon's sword downwards with the flat of his own, Pheles took a sharp step forward, forcing Zephon to twist aside from a thrust as he stepped even closer, driving his shoulder into Zephon's armour and knocking him over. The downed soldier lost his sword, and sat up to find one at his throat.

"That's one to me." Zephon got to his feet, shaking his head. He was wearing full armour, and had just been forced off his feet. Pheles _was _bigger, but the muscle necessary to do that...he'd always thought he had good balance.

The second bout lasted longer. Pheles was put on the defensive for a time. But it ended the same way. Zephon handed back his newly won cards (all five) and walked back to his lunch.

Pheles wasn't a SeeD. He had no junctions, no para-magic, and no indoctrination to his name. There had been no unnatural strength and speed in his attack, just training and discipline. If he had been a SeeD...

The previous thoughts in condensed form:

_Shit, I need a sword._

* * *

_**It's very hard to distinguish between two fighters when both of them are in the same army, dressed the same, and using the same type of weapon. Can you keep track of who's doing what, folks?**_

_**'MIA' is 'missing in action', in case you were wondering.**_

_**Oh, and references to 'the moon' are used the same way as 'hell' in a character's speech, ie. 'everything's going to hell' 'We're all going to the moon and back.'**_

_**Please review, compliments not compulsory.**_


	13. Customer

**Customer**

It was a full week before his tentative questing found anything approaching a means of getting a new weapon. Every company had at least one soldier who ran a black market in distilled Marlboro venom, mind altering magic spells and the like, but unsanctioned reselling of military swords carried very harsh penalties. Eventually, he'd been given a name, but discreet enquiries were not something he felt he had skill with. He'd probably left a trail, his only hope being that no one would realistically be interested enough to keep track of what one insignificant Galbadian grunt did with his time. Unless he did something to draw attention to himself, he thought he'd get by.

But, he'd been wrong before.

The supplier wasn't a member of the G-Army, which meant the transaction would be in the city itself. Good for anonymity, and potentially treachery. He might have wondered if this was some elaborate scheme by the government to clamp down on smuggling, but that, too would be a waste of effort, just for him. The sword was unlikely to be in his price range, so he'd have no choice but to cut and run. Likely to be dangerous, but there wasn't much he could do about that.

_So. I'm going to a risky transaction, potentially a bloody one, that could get me in trouble with the army, all because I'm too cowardly to admit that I tossed my sword and ran. What are the chances of this ending well?_

He'd never gotten around to mentioning the plastering to his family, but when he got home, Thrustaevis was hacking at the ceiling of his room with a chisel. Growing up with an armless parent and little spare cash had left both twins with a selection of skills in basic repairs. They could rarely meet professional standards, but it was usually enough to keep their home in one piece for another couple of months. A hammer was floating in midair behind her, leaving both hands free to work.

"Hey. Sorry, wasn't expecting you today. I should be done in about an hour."

"It's fine. I just came for the coat. It's windy today, thought I'd try it out."

Thrustaevis shook her head, teeth flashing briefly. "Glad you like it, but, well...it's a coat. Why the interest?"

He stopped, looked up at her. "Thrustaevis. Think of any activity known to man, Shumi, or Moomba."

"Painting toenails due to fungal infection." The reply was instant, Thrustaevis not being entirely unfamiliar with such conversations.

"Now picture someone doing it wearing a leather longcoat. Which is more memorable?"

"...Okay, I'll give you that. Being eaten by a behemoth?"

He reached into the drawer where he'd left the Chef's Knife. "Never seen that happen. But I still think it would work. We have any hair gel?" Although it was tightly sheathed, buckling the Chef's knife around his body took three times longer than it should have, due to hesitations and fumbles.

"No. You used the last of it at Henrietta's 18th. Going somewhere in particular?" She stepped down from the stool, heading for the shelf where a pair of old Esthari shotguns rested. (Lately, Zephon had added a six shot Dollet infantry sidearm to the collection.)

"TT tournament. Gotta look the part, or they won't let me in." He ran a hand through his hair, ice forming from the contact to hold it in shape. Most would view this as a horrendous waste of a Blizzard spell. They would probably be right, but that had never stopped him before. His sculpting continued through the rest of the conversation.

"Finally found one without an entrance fee, huh? I shouldn't be surprised they have a dress code." She looked at him. "That's going to be half melted by the time you get wherever you're going, you know. You'll look ridiculous. I mean it, this isn't just conversation."

"All the better. If they don't take me seriously, I've a better chance of scoring some good cards."

"Okay then...why are you wearing a knife and armour to this tournament? It's not SeeDs again, is it?"

"...No, of course not. I'm not _that_ stupid."

"Now."

"Hey, at least I learned something from that!"

"Moral victory, then."

"..."

"Good. I'd have punched you if you said yes."

"If I do start thinking like that, you're welcome to. Wish me luck?"

"Cash prize?"

"...I never asked. I hope so."

"Ok then. Good luck, Zephon. And next time you find me working at something, it'd be a good idea to offer to help."

He snapped to attention, gave a knight's salute of fist to heart. "Acknowledged."

0000000

Thrustaevis, despite her professed disinterest, had impressive taste in flappy leather longcoats. Adjusted, he could fit military body armour under it, and still buckle it closed. A trained eye would notice the discrepancy in bulk between upper and lower body, but the way the tail extended almost to his ankles meant that this wasn't easy to see. It also had a high collar, raising the possibility of it obscuring his face. (Wearing a Galbadian helmet would signpost his origins, which could well trigger an investigation). All in all, he could get used to walking around in one of these.

He got to the address he'd been given early. Apartment building, similar to his own. Not in the same district of the city, thankfully. He wasn't exactly familiar with things like this, but running an illegal weapons sale here seemed odd. Whatever had happened to high rise carparks and national monuments? In the shadow of the building, his coat no longer fluttered so impressively, but he could live with that.

1st floor, apartment number four. A partition slid back at his knock. Eyes.

"Who're you?"

"Someone. I'm looking for a sharp stick, hear they come in handy. Help me?"

The door slid back, and Zephon stepped into a room. Bare, not a room that was used for anything other than transactions. There were three people inside. A man in the classic 'mage' costume, the full robe and hat with moon/star patterns. Zephon was instantly on his guard. Unnecessary melodrama made people dismissive, something he'd learned from playing cards. He'd used it before to spring surprises. One of the others was carrying twin shortswords in sheaths hung at his waist, his stance one of relaxed poise. The third was dressed entirely unremarkably and appeared unarmed. Standing between the other two, he was the first to speak.

"You're here for a sword?"

Zephon tried for an ostentatious hairflip, but, with his hair hopelessly tangled and dotted with shards of half melted ice, found this difficult. _Perfect._

"You've got one?"

His attempted hairflip was mirrored, by a mostly bald man. "Maybe. But the penalties for running swords are pretty harsh, you know. We can't just give them away to anyone. Me and the guys, we're patriotic as they come. We try to help out the vets whenever they need spare cash. I've two tours of duty in Centra myself. So, can you prove to us you're not Esthar Black Ops or Timber Resistance?"

He blinked. "How do I do that?"

"Proof of address, for a start." _And they know where to find me if something goes wrong._

"You haven't shown me what I came to see yet."

A sword was produced from somewhere inside mage robes, clattering to the ground between them. He reached for it. The three tensed, but no-one moved as he picked it up, taking a couple of swings to get the balance of the thing.

It wasn't a military sword. Shorter, broader, and much, much lighter than it should have been.

_So, which vet did this belong to? He's lying._

"Okay, so...who wants to spar? Better try it out."

Mage and shortsword wielder glanced at the probable leader, who shrugged. Shortswords stepped forward, took a stance. At the last instant, Zephon remembered that he couldn't take a militarily taught stance without betraying his origins, and slipped into the first alternative that came to mind. Sword blade extended towards his opponent, horizontally and at shoulder height, his arm straight and fully extended, left hand raised behind his head, empty. It was from _The Sorceress and her Knight,_ an old movie known primarily for its attractive cast and excellent fight scenes. The budget had been mostly used up on an animatronic dragon, and the script and acting were less impressive. He'd been fond of it when he was younger. An eyeroll from his opponent.

_Good. Hyne knows, if they start taking me seriously, I'm screwed. _He set himself up, wondering how strong his shoulders were. He could never have maintained that stance with a real sword. He'd need iron wrists to keep it up for longer than a minute as it was.

_What's this made of? Cardboard? Adamantines?_

Zephon did not consider himself anything close to a master fencer. But he was sweating from the first exchanges, and that was ridiculous. Shortswords was easily his match in a straight fight, but wasn't out to kill a potential customer. His blades constantly sought to lock, bind, and wrench the sword from his opponent's hand, while Zephon was trying to clash, heavy impacts to see what his potential new weapon could withstand. Shortswords was attempting to avoid direct collisions, which, with his shorter, ostensibly more fragile weapons, made sense of a kind, but it was infuriating to someone trying to take the measure of their blade. Fortunately, someone trying to hit their opponent's sword rather than their body was a hallmark of a bad fighter, so Zephon's wild swings didn't break character. This continued for some time, until the Galbadian soldier lost patience and struck.

Breaking pattern, he took a step back, waited for his opponent to match it, and then threw everything he had into a wild downward slash. Shortswords had to block direct or have his head split in half. The bodyguard took the impact well, left blade rising to meet descending sword halfway up its length, while the right hooked around to impact his sword from behind, just above the crossguard. Locking, as the bodyguard exerted pressure with both blades. Zephon watched his own blade's tip arched back towards him, impossibly −_Not Adamantine fibres, then−_ and, before it could snap entirely, threw out his free hand. His knuckles impacted very slightly on his opponent's forehead. It was barely a sting, but threw off concentration enough that the two shortswords wavered and Zephon could reclaim his potential purchase from the bind.

Panting, he raised his head. Shortswords had not lowered his own weapons.

"You tried to kill me."

"Uh, no. I tried to make you block. And look what happened. I'll give you two hundred gil for this, and you're lucky to get even that. You saw how it was bent in knots, right?"

Spokesperson smiled. "Flexibility. That's a good thing."

"Not if I'm defending it's not. Someone swings at me, I need to be able to take it."

"So...you know your swords, huh? Mighty professional stunt at the end there. So, a kid who dresses like he's on daddy's expense account, but has an inner city tenement accent. Swordfights like he's on stage, but talks like he's fought to kill before. Who _are_ you, kiddo? SeeD? Esthar? Self taught mercenary?"

_Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit._ He raised his arms and stepped forward sharply, making sure his coat flared.

"I am justice. I am the night." He glanced around, saw all three cover their mouths and start to shake. He flared his coat again.

"I am −Fire!"

He aimed for the mage first, saw him blasted backwards into the wall without a counterspell materialising. _I guess, sometimes, drama's just drama._

Shortsword was running at him fast, and he had no illusions about lasting long in a straight fight.

"Blind!" The bodyguard's step faltered, and he collided full on with the Galbadian soldier, both blades flashing out to tear gashes in his coat and strike sparks from the armour underneath. He'd hit his target twice while entirely blind. The blades spilled from his grip with the clash, though, and a shove sent him over backwards. By the time he gained his feet, Zephon was running for the door. He burst through the apartment door, but the weight of his armour meant that Spokesperson reached the stairs first. Swinging a chain link gate across the entrance to the stairwell, he'd just locked it from the other side when Zephon caught up.

Skidding to a halt, Zephon allowed fire to pool in his palm. "Open it."

"Or what, you'll kill me? And get locked in? Until you're found standing over my corpse?"

"Or...I'll have to find my own way out. Even if I have to bring this whole building down." The frame was steel, but the internal floors and walls were not. A few Fires in the right place could cause significant damage.

Spokesperson looked at him. "This is a tenement. This floor is clear, but you'll kill dozens of people if you light us up."

"All the more reason to let me go. And Zephon sent a Fire over his shoulder without looking until after impact. It had struck a threadbare carpet, which began to smoke.

Spokesperson took a breath through bared teeth. "You fucking−"

Another fireball. Spokesperson hissed, then scrabbled at the gate, throwing it wide.

"Get out of here, you crazy bastard!" And he ran at the growing fire, as Zephon fled the building.

0000000

It was still early evening. He climbed the wall of Deling City Zoo, one of his favourite places for years, and wandered into the Training Section, leaving his new sword wrapped in his coat in the crook of a tree. Killing time for a couple of hours, he left at closing time with the crowds. Body armour would not cause comment, given the menagerie's famous Lunar Cry Simulator.

Aware that Thrustaevis would question the absence of his coat, he went to the barracks instead of home. Right now, he did not want to test his sister's absurd perceptiveness. Not when failure would reveal to her that he'd tried to wipe out a building for the sake of a two hundred gil sword. All the way back from the ill advised meet, he'd been sniffing the air.

That night, he shaved his head. He collected the sword two days later, and only just stopped himself from burning the coat where it lay. But it was to hang in his wardrobe unused for a long time.

00000000

Tess took a step closer, visored head still enough to be a stare. She took a breath.

"Guess I should say this now, to prevent misunderstandings. I thought you should know...I'm pregnant."

Zephon stopped dead. "What?"

The thrust took him off his feet. Landing hard on his elbows, he froze for an instant, then could only applaud.

"Touch!" said Kersan, refereeing, one hand rising to cover her own mouth. "That's game."

Tess smiled down at him. "Can't believe that worked."

"Momentary lapse. I'd advise you not try that on the battlefield, though." He extended a hand. "Congratulations."

"Why's that?" She ignored his hand, possibly fearing he'd turn it into an attack. He was satisfied with his own hand to hand technique, however, and didn't feel the need to practice it.

"That announcement has associations for me. I'm standing here thinking 'Oh, Hyne, she's going to be even bitchier than usual.' Your average Esthar soldier isn't going to care. He's not allowed execute you if you were pregnant, but he won't have a problem with killing in a battle situation."

Kersan looked at him. "That's...right. How did you know that?"

"What, am I not supposed to? Personally, if someone draws a weapon on me, I think I'd take them down no matter who they were. Can I ask you something, Tess?"

"Hmm?"

"What's your family name?"

"...DiMarco. Why, planning to hunt me down in revenge for the loss of dignity today?"

"Absolutely." Behind his mask, he blinked rapidly. "Nah, you just ... remind me of someone."

"Yeah? Was she nice?"

"He. Used to shout 'Fuck it, I'm gay!' during training exercises to throw off the other teams."

Teeth flashed. "I'll make a note. How's your new sword working for you, by the way?"

He glanced at Kersan and Matt. They were in the public park across the road from Caraway's mansion. After the broadcast was made, most of the Dollet expeditionary force had been brought home. The squadrons had yet to be reassigned, so Zephon had gone looking for people he knew on his own time. (Marcus had pronounced the scale of the withdrawal worrying, as it implied Galbadia would need to commit its forces elsewhere in the near future.) Miranda was back in Lieutenant uniform and hadn't had time to loiter. Scanning, he detected no undue suspicion or interest in Kersan or Matt's faces.

"...It's not as good as the one I had, but it's not broken yet."

"So why the switch?"

"It occurred to me when I met the SeeDs, that I needed a new fighting style. They know how to fight Galbadians. I only got away because I had a surprise −you remember those Blinds I found on the roof?" All of that was true.

Matt's head tilted. "I keep forgetting you walked away from SeeD. What was that like? Are they really that tough?"

"I got away because I played cards, then ran like a Timber Train. One of them caught me, if I'd met any more, I was fucked."

"Still, though..."

"Trust me, they're terrifying. They've got the speed, the strength, the spells, and the GFs. Like, I'm not Gilgamesh or anything−."

"Oh, thanks so much for clearing that up. I totally had you confused with a twelve foot sword collecting GF with at least four arms..." Tess. Kersan laid a hand on her arm, head shaking.

"Fuck you, I'm not being funny here."

"Sorry. Honestly. I'm listening, I swear."

"They've got the strengths, but they don't have any exploitable weaknesses. They're not arrogant, or careless, or trigger-happy. The only mistake the one I met made was to talk to me before attacking, and, most of the time, that wouldn't have made a difference. There was no way he could have known that I had status effects stocked. _I_ actually underestimated him! He treated me like a threat, so I thought I was one, and almost died for it. The only thing they haven't got is memories, and in practice that's strength. They're not slowed by remorse or grief...they're...perfect. Just perfect. That's why...I've got to train, I've got to learn to use this. I won't be able to face a SeeD on equal terms in strength or speed, so I've got to gain a few levels in skill.

"I know, no matter how much training I do, I'm not going to beat that guy if I meet him again. But, if I can look him in the eye when I'm hanging from the end of his sword, and make him remember me for more than a couple of seconds, that'll be enough." Zephon tried and failed to laugh. "Well, not really, but I'll take what I can get."

Matt stepped in, caught his shoulders. "Dude...that's not a good way to think. You weren't supposed to walk away from that encounter. You survived. That SeeD isn't all powerful. Did you see the broadcast? We didn't, we were guarding the tower against sabotage. But SeeD do make mistakes. Maybe not many, but they're not flawless. The Galbadian army's faced superior opposition before. Faced and won. We beat Adel−"

"Sort of. We beat her army."

"Have you ever watched old newsreels? OdiCorp threw a bunch of crazy shit at us. We took one hell of a beating for five years, but hung on, and then smashed her elite legions in the battle of DC. No battle, _ever_, is a foregone conclusion."

"You don't understand. He wasn't just powerful, he was _skilled. _I've never been so outclassed. If I'd been the one with the junctions, the high level spells, et cetera, and he'd been the Galbadian, I still would've lost. He was just that good."_ None of you understand. I had a Chef's Knife. I had the ability to end it, but I didn't have the skill._

"Then why aren't you dead?" This from Tess. Her voice had risen.

"...what?"

"If you were so outclassed, why did you live?"

"I said. I Blinded him, played mage tennis for a while, then he summoned and took me down."

"You survived a summon?" Kersan. "That's...pretty impressive."

"I Drew a Shell from him, cast it just in time. Took serious injuries in the process. He should've killed me."

"Why didn't he?" Tess again.

"Dollet were coming, he couldn't hang around long enough to make sure."

"If he was really that good, he would've had time to kill you at his leisure. You didn't do too bad, all things considered." Matt.

"There's no prizes for moral victories."

"A minute ago you said you'd be happy to take what you could get, and like it or not, Zephon, walking away alive from a one to one confrontation with SeeD is pretty unusual." Matt.

"I was lucky. I mean, fictional protagonist lucky. It won't happen again."

"Why not? People with junctions have messed up memories, why should he learn from his mistake? If you see him again, you could introduce yourself as a long lost cousin or something. See what happens." Tess

Zephon took a breath.

_That's right. They can't remember their pasts properly. Still, they must have some memories, or they'd forget how to talk and stuff. Still, that is one advantage we've got. Hard to see how it could apply, but it's something. SeeD have at least one universal flaw. Maybe Caraway or Biggs can come up with some way to exploit it._

"Okay. Okay. Maybe, just maybe, I'm as awesome as you all seem to think I am. I'll just wait and see, I suppose."

"Great. In the meantime, take the time to up your game."

"Will do. Spar?"

"...I didn't mean _today._ Aren't you on duty tomorrow? We've been here three hours, you'll burn yourself out."

"Better find out my limits now, so I'll know em. Come on, bring it."

Sigh. "Fine." She set herself, then charged.

He'd been alternating between Tess and Matt over the last few hour to get to know the limits of his new sword, and had gained an idea of their styles. They were all pretty much dead equals in skill and speed, but Matt had more endurance and concentration, meaning that unless Zephon did something special, he'd almost always tire first and slip up. Tess had less raw strength, but she had imagination and a streak of deviousness that meant he could never relax or take her for granted.

The first strike came in high, a fairly basic probe that he could cut aside with a routine move. He tried to spin and counter from his other side, but was stabbed in the back halfway through for his troubles. The impact on his body armour threw him forward, but he kept his balance and spun back to face his opponent in time to take the next thrust.

"Touch!" Kersan, self appointed referee again.

Adding an entry to his list of 'moves that don't work in real fights', Zephon drove forward, sword sliding into a clinch lock of cross pieces. He was expecting a disengage, but Tess put her weight behind her sword and shoved him back three steps with brute force, clearing some distance between them. She didn't immediately press the attack.

"I shouldn't have been able to do that. You're tired, you're getting sloppy, this is dangerous, come on. Stop."

"I agree." Ker.

He attacked, a straight thrust. Basic. Tess parried, then twisted aside, letting his lunge carry him past her, then snapped her elbow into his face.

Blood spattered into the grass, along with broken pieces of Zephon's left upper canine, the adjacent incisor, and one further molar. The impact snapped his head round, and he pitched over backward, landing seated.

While the Galbadian insurance scheme was extensive, teeth were considered optional cosmetics, and as such were only covered if damaged in the course of duty. A sparring match in ones own free time did not amount to this. Any repairs would be taken at Zephon's own expense... and although his current wages were substantial, he hadn't built up the savings necessary for an operation. Thrustaevis would be aware of this, and given her status as the family accountant, would end up feeling guilt due to this inability.

Firebolts from each hand struck Tess in the chest, blasting her backwards. Zephon came up with sword in hand.

Soldiers didn't shout "I'll kill you!" But, if the desire struck them, they knew how to. The strike was for the side of the neck.

Kersan's sword flashed, the quicknes of her block surprising everyone.

Before Zephon had reacted to her first move, the flat of her sword rapped his forearm, opening his hand, and then swept his feet from under him. Flat on his back, he found her blade's edge at his throat.

"I've been swordfighting for thirteen years," Kersan told him, looking down, "and it doesn't matter. If a SeeD sees that you're dangerous enough in close quarters to threaten them, they just summon and obliterate you without coming in reach. Train all you like...at the end of the day, you and me will still just be cooked meat."

The blade withdrew. "Go home."


	14. Guard

**Guard**

As the week before Edea's inauguration drew on, the mood over Deling City darkened palpably. On the surface, the army was busy with preparations, and the prospect of a free celebration was one thing Galbadia's citizens were not inclined to turn down. But a Sorceress was being appointed to a high diplomatic position in Galbadia's government. A riot at the parade was almost guaranteed. SeeD were deemed unlikely to interfere, so soon after that calamitous Timber broadcast, but Galbadia's various generals, Sorceresss War veterans almost to a man,(and three women) were almost certain to act at some level.

Thrustaevis had noticed Zephon's newly missing teeth, but upon hearing the circumstances, surprised him. Instead of guilt, she was just angry at him and his penchant for getting injured in meaningless fights. Weathering that storm took a while, but he made certain to be back on good terms by the night of the parade. That evening found him in full armour, lounging at home stitching the tears in his coat. The Chef's Knife sheath was wrapped around his body, unseen under his armour.

Close to his heart.

This citywide parade was a security nightmare. The entire home garrison was assigned to street patrol, and had been issued Sleep spells for non-lethal crowd control. Zephon was expected to be in place at 19:00 hours after a shift change, but the early evening was his own.

With so many guards assigned to patrolling the streets, the actual Presidential/Ambassadorial Guard was light. Granted, as a Sorceress, Edea would likely be well capable of her own defence. The Sorceress and the President would not be Zephon's concern. Still...

"So, Dad...what do you think is going to happen tonight?"

Marcus leaned back in his chair. "Hard to say. Depends on who's planning it. Jahnsen is pretty direct, he'll probably just assemble a squad of plainclothes soldiers and lead a charge. Caraway is meticulous, he'll have some kind of plan. If it was me, I'd ignore Edea and go for Deling while all the security is focused on her. Without his political support, her appointment probably wouldn't be ratified."

"Hyne, Dad, that'd free her to cut loose."

"In the middle of DC? A lynchmob would tear her to pieces if she tried. Edea's smarter than that."

"Thuh...Maybe. Are you going to the parade?"

His head slowly rose. "While Edea's always been good to Galbadia, I refuse to venerate any Sorceress, especially when they're being appointed to a position of political power."

"No one out there is venerating the Sorceress, Dad," said Thrustaevis, emerging from her room in a dark green party dress. "They're celebrating because they can, and shiny things are exploding on the streets tonight." Father and son winced, prompting an eyeroll. "You know what I meant!"

Zephon glanced at her. "So you're going? Is that new, by the way?"

"Same day I got your coat. The Megaflares are playing in the G-Hotel's lounge tonight, for free. Coming?"

He waved his sheathed sword at her. "Street patrol ...well, more guarding, but that's what it's called on the roster. I'm not on duty til seven, though, so I might catch the start. If you don't mind?" Megaflares...had Matt mentioned them once, over the course of a card game?

"Whatever." She collected shawl, coat, and bag. "Might as well get going. You need to get anything?"

"Nah. I travel light."

"Apart from 40lb of armour."

"...Yeah. Hey, listen, I'm not going to tell you to stay at home, we don't get these chances often, but do me a favour and stay indoors tonight. Someone is going to try for the Sorceress. Stay away from the parade, you don't want to end up as a casualty."

"...Is it going to be that dangerous? Really?"

"No one is happy to see a Sorceress getting power. Shit, _I'm _not happy about it, and I've never even seen one. But imagine how the generals must be feeling..."

She looked at him. "Have you been...told something? Heard about an arrangement?"

"No. I'm crowd control, not Ambassadorial Guard."

"...Will you be okay?"

"Honestly? No guarantees with my luck, but I should be. It's not up to me to protect her."

It wasn't an eventful journey. People were beginning to arrive for the parade, but hadn't appeared in numbers yet. With a parting "Remember, trust no one." for his sister, Zephon was trying to find a shadowy corner in the hotel lounge when he heard his name called.

Matt, Kersan, and Tess were at a table. He clasped his hands together, a 'look, I'm not about to start casting in revenge for those teeth of mine" and sat down.

"Okay, who are you bribing? How are you not assigned to guard duty tonight?"

"We're on from midnight." Tess. "Listen , I'm really sorry about tha−"

"Non volenti fit injuria," Kersan murmured, just loud enough to be heard over the noise of the swelling crowd.

Zephon looked at her. "What? I don't speak Centran."

"Rough translation, 'If you volunteer to do something dangerous, knowing the risks, don't bitch to me if you get hurt.'" Ker smiled. "It's a quote from a judge. Charity prizefight between a Ruby Dragon and some military machine that the operator didn't escape from in time.'"

"I...see." Someone stepped into view on the raised section of the room that normally housed a piano, microphone in hand.

"Heya folks, and thank you very much for coming. I know we'll lose a lot of you to the parade as the night goes on, but anyway I'd like to welcome you here for as long as you stay, and thank those of you who can tear yourselves away from this momentous occasion."

"Who's he?" Matt.

Zephon shrugged.

"I'm your master of ceremonies on this illustrious occasion, specially drafted in from the horrific dark circuits of Timber for the Sorceress' inauguration. And, before we start, let me make this clear. I am categorically against the appointment of the Sorceress Edea as Ambassador."

Heads snapped up all across the room. Utter silence. The M.C. smiled.

"Let me tell you why. It's inevitably going to cause trouble. Y'see, it's a well known fact that a certain cross section of our society can barely bring themselves to say the _word_ 'sorceress' without having panic attacks and flashbacks to dark times. And since none of them will dare to speak up openly, I've appointed myself as mouthpiece on behalf of these unfortunate souls. _You _know who I'm talking about!"

The stage manager signalled the bouncers to move in, the horrified silence stretching.

"That's right, folks. I'm talking about lispers."

The room exploded. Applauding as hard as he could along with everyone else, Zephon found himself arching over the back of his chair. There was simply no other option but to appreciate the sheer courage it would take to voice a joke like that, in Galbadia's main hotel, the night of Edea's appointment. After a pause for breath and applause, the M.C. kept talking.

"I mean, think about it. 'Sorceress'. That's just cruel. I happen to know a diplomat in Dollet who not only lisps, but has difficulty with his Rs. He has to get up tomorrow and tell his opposite number 'Owah Ambathadaw ith the Thawthereth' This is outrageous. And that's why I'm against this appointment."

Smiling, Zephon leaned back in his chair. "I thought there was a gig on tonight."

"Later. Lead singer had a sore throat, he's got to go get it healed, so it'll be shorter than advertised. Shame, I was looking forward to it, I've heard a lot about them." Ker again.

Zephon looked at her. "Talking today?"

"Did you forget? I was in your squad. I'd been there for months. You lost one good friend, I lost seventeen. Sorry if I wasn't singing afterwards."

He closed his eyes."I'm so sorry, I...forgot." _Shit__**, how**__ could I not have realised that?_ "Oh, Hyne..."

"So, this being Galbadia, you're aware of a song called 'Eyes on Me'. Julia Heartily, used to play piano in this very building if I'm not mistaken. Still, have you ever _listened _to the lyrics? '_I saw you smiling at me/Was it real or just my fantasy?_' 'I'm not quite sure. Hope I'm not hallucinating again. I have _got_ to lay off the drugs'."

This was not quite so well received. 'Eyes on Me' encapsulated the Galbadian reaction to all those who'd lost someone in the Sorceress War, made all the more resonant by Julia's own premature death. And no one wanted to be seen laughing if General Caraway was to hear about this.

Ker looked at him. "Of course you did. No one looks outside their own grief."

"I'll make it up to you."

"How? You have nothing I want."

"You play cards?"

"Yes, but they're not valuable enough that gaining a few would make a difference to me. I don't hold anything against you, let it go."

"You're sure?"

"And the seminal romantic song of Galbadia is a little weird, folks! Think! He's 'always there in the corner' with his 'eyes on me'. How is that not creepy as fuck?"

"What would it achieve?"

"Okay. Sorry again."

He turned his face away, saw Thrustaevis manoevering through the crowds towards the doorway with someone leading her by the hand. "Excuse me."

The crowd parted for the military armour, and he got to the door just in time.

"Excuse me, sir, madam, I'm a safety official at tonight's parade, I was wondering if you'd mind answering a few questions? It'll only take a moment."

He saw Thrustaevis smile. "Yes?"

"Are you inebriated, under the influence of mind altering drugs, in love, or otherwise incapable of making your own rational decisions?"

"Um...I don't think so." She glanced across at her...date? Had this been prearranged? "Sorry."

"That's okay, I hate you too." _Heh, I like him already._ _Okay, she's not slurring, pupils fine, leaning a little but probably just being polite..._

"You, sir? Safety is important on nights like this. I mean, you don't know where she's been."

"What?"

"Never mind. Have a pleasant evening." He turned back to his table, heard a conversation begin over his shoulder.

"Who the hell was that?"

"That's my stalker. I'll introduce you if you're good..."

He reached his table. Tess looked at him. "And she is your..."

"Twin. How could you not notice, Dad couldn't tell us apart until we were twelve."

She looked at him. "Really?"

"...Well, no, but it's usually pretty easy to tell we're related."

"Can I tell him?" Matt, lips pressed tightly together to prevent teeth from breaking through. Tess gave a nod, linking her hands and placing them on the table.

"You're wearing a mask, Zephon. None of us know what any of the others look like, beyond jaw recognition. I'd walk right by you if you were wearing anything other than army gear." Matt glanced at the doorway "Although, I have to admit, she was a pretty good endorsement of your genetic material."

"So you'll join me in orchestrating swift, brutal revenge if anything happens to her tonight?"

"Of course. What are friends for?" Instant reply.

"You're in love with Zephon's nearest female equivalent? That's interesting." Tess, teeth flashing. "I'm in too, by the way. You got a good look at her friend?"

"I'm not good with faces. Look for the guy with the handprint burned into his face."

"Um...I think that'd be revenge enough."

"Not for me!" Matt. "I'll back you up on any reasonably sane plan."

"And that girls, is how to keep on my good side. Just so you know. That, and losing to me at TT." Pause, then: "Oh my God, Ker, I didn't mean to just move off topic like that."

"I don't mind. I actually like these conversations; it's why I'm still hanging around with you all." _Well, that's good to hear. _

He glanced at his watch. "I'd better be going, guys, I've got guarding to do. If you feel like it, come looking for me once this guy finishes up. I'm on corner 38A in front of the Presidential Rez. Tess, didn't you come visit me in the infirmary? You saw my face then, right?"

The other two looked at her. She shrugged. "You were bandaged. All I saw was hair."

"That's out of date now, actually. Bye!"

He fled. For whatever reason, he seemed to be prone to insensitive/stupid comments tonight, so best to use them on people he wasn't so well acquainted with.

000000

He reached his street corner in good time, but Pheles was there ahead of him. While they still were not exactly on good terms, it would just be stupid to let that get in the way of a military assignment.

"Hey. Anything I should know?"

"Nothing's happened for a while. Couple of arrests for carrying weapons too close to the podium, nothing special. She's due out any time now. What do you think she'll look like? Adel II?"

"I doubt it. You can't appoint an ambassador who can't clear doorways."

Thrasymachus arrived. Lack of long range communications meant that tonight's operation would consist of small, independent units communicating by messenger. The three of them would need to deal with any short term problems on their own.

After asking the same question as Zephon had, they settled in to wait.

And then, finally, the Sorceress emerged. With someone in her wake−

"What? Rinoa's back in the city?"

Pheles glanced at him. "Who?"

"Caraway's daughter. Lives on that estate, you know, with the guard who likes to send people on tests of courage? Bitter old vet with nothing better to do."

"Ah. Uh...she looks stoned..."

"Must be. Wow, Presidential Security is easier to get through than Balamb Garden's hockey defence. Timber revolutionaries broke it twice, and now some heiress just wanders in." Thrasymachus, surprisingly.

They turned away to manage the suddenly restless crowd, and so were not facing the Sorceress as she began her speech.

"**...Lowlifes...shameless filthy wretches."**

The three Galbadians glanced at each other. "What?" said all three at once.

**How you celebrate my ascension with such joy. Hailing the very one whom you have condemned for generations. Have you no shame?"**

"Quite the crowdpleaser, isn't she? Born diplomat." Thrasymachus drew his sword and feinted at the crowd, forcing them to shy back. Zepho raised his hands, priming a Sleep for release if they lunged.

He risked a glance over his shoulder. The onlookers nearest the podium would be dotted with actors paid to cheer really enthusiastically. Most of them would be listening to tone, not words. Edea had just utterly humiliated Vinzer Deling in public.

"**What happened to the evil, ruthless Sorceress from your fantasies?"**

"We stabbed the bitch!" someone shouted from the crowd, to cheers.

_That's right. All thanks to Dad. Although I don't think anyone actually did thank him, come to think of it. _

_...Shit, what'd he be thinking now? He must be watching this on TV._

"**The cold blooded tyrant that slaughtered countless men and destroyed many nations? Where is she now?**

"Y'know, that's a good point. We shouldn't really appoint Edea our Ambassador, she's always refused political power before. What's going to−" Thrasymachus.

"**She stands before your very eyes to become your new ruler."**

This was followed by a burst of laughter from the 'Ambassador to the World'. Individuals in the crowd began shoving forward, forcing Zephon to take a step backwards into the street.

"**A new era has just begun."**

"**E- Edea...Are you alright?**

A horrible crackling sound. Unable to stop himself from turning, Zephon beheld Vinzer Deling being hoisted by the throat, smoke rising from Edea's grip before she flung him aside.

"Whoa...that effigy's amazing. You could hear the cartilage crunch from here!"

Pheles looked at him. "I think that's President Deling."

"What? N- No, it couldn't be. She couldn't j-just murder him in public and get away with it...could she? This can't be real!"

"**This is reality. No one can help you. Sit back and enjoy the show.**

"She can't expect to get away with this."

"...Y'think?" Thrasymachus, paler than Zephon had ever seen him. "No one wants to be ruled by her, but we all know the reputation of what Sorceresses can do. Who's going to step forwards first, knowing that?"

"**Rest assured, you fools. Your time will come. This is only the beginning. Let us start a new reign of terror. I will let you live a fantasy beyond your imagination."**

Dress trailing, Sorceress Edea, newest ruler of Galbadia, left her podium. And suddenly the onlookers surged forward, catching Zephon by surprise. His body armour clashed heavily with the tarmac road, and then people were running over him. A boot stamped on his thigh, numbing it, and another landed directly on the front of his helmet, smashing his head back into the street as he tried to raise it.

"Fire!" The vertical firebolt caused the crowd in the immediate vicinity to shy away, giving him enough breathing space to gain his knees. A man who crashed into him was greeted by the pommel of his sword between the ribs, while another following was met by a full swing with the flat in the side of the head, powerful enough to knock him sideways.

"This is a new sword, boys and girls! Anyone else moves, I'm going to test out the edge, got that?" For added emphasis he allowed fire to pool in his palm. That proportion of the crowd closest to his two victims quieted quickly.

Shaking his head, trying to clear the white spots in his vision, Zephon gripped a nearby railing. "What the hell are we supposed to do now?" Looking up, he briefly saw double before his vision cleared.

"Pretty much everyone in the city is asking the same question. Our priority is the civilians for now, though. Got to make sure they don't get hurt."

Thrasymachus was kneeling next to the victims, one of which was on hands and knees, the other prone. "You can be vicious when you're pissed, you know that? One of these is going to need a neck brace."

"I...broke his neck?"

"Don't know. Better not take a chance." He sent a Fire skyward –the Galbadian 'I need help!' signal.

"What just happened? Why'd they rush me?"

"A pair of giant lizards just jumped at the podium. They're not any monster I recognise from the handbooks, maybe they're anti-sorceress defences."

"Doubt it." Pheles.

"Me too." Thrasymachus.

The gates of the Presidential Residnece creaked open, and a platoon of dancers emerged.

"What the... She's going ahead with the parade? Why?"

Pheles was staring as the Sorceress' float as it emerged. "It's a challenge. Look at her eyes."

Tapping the side of his helmet, Zephon zoomed in. The Sorceresses expression was serene, but her eyes were moving, searching the crowd. Waiting. Alert.

_I'm right here, boys. Come and get me!_

* * *

**_I would like to stress that I have nothing whatsoever against speech impediments. Please review, compliments not compulsory._**


	15. Abstainer

**Abstainer**

The dancing girls had wasted their time. Not a single onlooker was watching their performance, every eye on the new ambassador, serene on her float. Or so it would seem. With the crowd on the verge of eruption, the soldiers could talk with little fear of being heard, their drawn swords and the crumpled forms of the two civilians who'd decided to test them enough to keep them at bay.

"I...can't decide." Thrasymachus said, shaking his head.

"What?" Pheles.

"Which is better. The Sorceress claiming the Presidency without being challenged, or being challenged and winning."

"Guys, just checking...I did actually see that, didn't I? Our new ambassador publicly murdering our head of state? I mean, seriously, how does she expect to get away with that?" Zephon shook himself, trying to ease his stomping induced headache.

"You going to lead a charge, then? If you go first, I'll follow." Pheles.

_Don't make history. It's never worth it. _"Sorry. I..." _have a Chef's Knife. If I get close enough, I have a shot at... No, ridiculous._

"Sorcery... we know virtually nothing about it. That's the problem. What is she capable of?" Thras.

"Adel lost a battle. If sorceresses were invulnerable, they wouldn't need to usurp armies." Pheles

"Adel could take artillery shells and get back up, and carve a path through a battalion alone. Doesn't matter. Adel's not here, this is Edea. Is she weaker? Stronger? Weaker but smarter? Let's not do anything stupid until the vets give their opinion."

"You think they will? Who says she's not about to start a cull tomorrow morning?"

_He's right. But... _"The army'll make a fight of it. The commanders all have regiments loyal to them personally." _Civil war or sorceress rule...huh. Decisions, decisions..._

"Assuming they live to see morning. Without a counterbalance, a sorceress' rule could get very bad..." Thras.

Pheles' head snapped up, then from side to side. "Guys...we better stop talking. Stop thinking. For tonight, we've just got to keep as many people safe as we can. Anything else will just cause problems later."

_Keep safe, generals. If I was Edea, I'd be moving on you now...or would I? They hate sorceresses, but they're also afraid of them. If she can keep them from raising heads over the parapet..._

The float turned right, passed directly in front of the three soldiers controlling the crowd. Unnecessarily, as the crowd hesitated under Edea's regard, caught halfway between fear and..._respect? Adoration? No, that's not right. They're...blind with shock, cheering because it's a parade, and that's what people are supposed to do at parades. They...haven't figured out how they should react yet. _

As Edea passed, Zephon glanced away, eyes finding her knight, gunblade slung across his..._Holy fuck, that's Seifer! Well, that settles it. Vinzer Deling is definitely dead, he'd never allow a man who tried to kill him to walk free. And our new leader's mission statement? 'Let us begin a new reign of terror.' Promising._

_Huh. Wonder if he knows Rinoa's just been eaten by giant lizards. If he does, it doesn't seem to bother him. Caraway's going to be pissed, that's at least one problem Edea will have to deal with._

_...Sorceress' knight. Recent appointment? Must be. Not very knightly to cause a riot over a general's daughter. Why? Did she have a knight before this? What happened to him? Did she suddenly have a need for one?_

_Her knight. __**Knight. **__What does that mean? 'He is my knight' ...What do knights do? Why does Edea have a knight? Just an extension of her will? Middleman?_

_...No, she doesn't need anyone for that. Is he just a ceremonial accessory, like a crown or sceptre? Why is he there?_

_Why am I so fixated on this?_

He closed his eyes. "What are we going to do?"

Thrasymachus laid a hand on his shoulder. "Easy. Listen, don't panic, okay? For now, all we've got to do is survive the night. We can do our thinking tomorrow."

_When we look around to see who's still standing._

_The garrison is spread all over the city right now, and there's no easy way to contact central command. Well played, Edea. No squad alone can hope to take you down, and no orders can reach enough soldiers in time to act. If we attack piecemeal, you'll obliterate the first attack, and thus cause the rest to falter. We'll need artillery to have a chance, but even if we can produce some before the end of the parade, no one is going to give the order to fire into a mass of civilians._

_She's already won. This is our best opportunity to take her down, and it's going to pass us by. Unless someone does something special._

_Hang on...A knight, when personally sworn to someone, is primarily a bodyguard. And you don't have a bodyguard unless you've something to fear. He's carrying a weapon, and judging from his shoulders, he knows how to use it. So, Edea does know fear. She can be taken down. And not just by an army, either, something that her bodyguard can stop._

_Dad took down Adel, because he charged her when no one else would. He saw his chance to act, and took it. And once he struck her down and she bled, others followed, and the Sorceress was beaten back from the threshold of DC. One act of singular bravery that inspires others to follow. He saved the world._

_Don't worry, Dad._

_ I learned from your mistake. _

The crowd was silent now. Numb. Someone came forward.

"What...do we do?"

Thrasymachus shrugged. "That's up to you. But no one'll stop you if you want to go home. The atmosphere's kinda faded, I think."

A roar from the direction the float had gone. News came back in murmurs 'Someone threw a stone...Sir Knight ran him through.'

'_Reign of terror'. She's not wasting time. _

Zephon giggled. "We're all going to die." The other soldiers looked at him, but said nothing.

Time passed. The crowd ebbed. Some of them would be going to get weapons. Others would hide. In the meantime, there wasn't much need for keeping the guards keeping the parade route clear. But, orders were orders.

Zephon turned away from the street. The medics had finally arrived, and carried away the two he'd injured when the crowd rushed him. They'd heeded that lesson, though, and now hesitated to even approach, especially since the Sorceress' float had passed by into the city. They had time.

He drew his TT deck. "Anyone?"

Pheles looked up. "You really ought to kick that habit, you know. It just seems to cause trouble."

Zephon rubbed his jaw. "Yeah, I've been feeling a little like that lately. ...Oh, by the way... How'd Donny react when you gave him back his card?"

Pheles flexed his fingers, head lowering. "He...tore it in half. Said if he couldn't hang on to his card himself, he wasn't worthy of his father's name. I ended up humiliating him, that was messed up. Listen, watch yourself, okay? I duelled you because I thought he was going to do something he'd regret if he didn't, but...I may have made things worse."

Zephon looked at him. "And...you're telling me this _now?_"

" I guess I was a little distracted when President fucking Deling was strangled by his new Ambassador!"

"Easy, guys. Let's show calm faces to the civilians, okay? It won't take much to set them off tonight."

'_Watch yourself'? Seriously? How badly could he take that? Hope you're having a better night than me, T._

000000

Thrustaevis paused, settling on someone's front wall to change her shoes. The G-Hotel had hooked up a cable link for Edea's speech, but after her inauguration speech, everyone had been pushed out into the street, even the M.C. A grisly public murder also had dampened the mood for her date, who had said his goodbyes shortly after. There was a distinct possibility of a riot tonight, leaving Thrustaevis with a problem. She could head for the parade route, where there'd be plenty of guards, but also a greater possibility of violence. She could also just go home, but that would mean walking alone through sparsely populated streets, where she'd be more vulnerable to random muggings. With an imminent riot in the centre of town, there'd be a shortage of the normal street patrols. In the time taken to change into the runners in her bag, the crowds had left her behind.

"Hyne, what a clichéd way to get into trouble..." Fire glittered on her raised palm. She didn't like to waste spells, but tonight, it could be necessary. With Zephon working until morning, she'd be best served by making sure Marcus wasn't more worried than he needed to be. Moving quickly along silent streets, one hand ready to cast should the need arise. Until...

"Put that out, Madam. I understand it's a little unnerving tonight, but unless you see a direct threat, you'll just invite panic." _Panic in who? We're alone..._

A Galbadian soldier stepped out of an alley behind her, and that was strange...patrols were always doubled. Of course, he could just be off duty, but then it'd be none of his business what magic she was or wasn't casting. She let the flame wink out.

"Sorry."

Pause. They looked at each other.

"Can I help you?"

"No...but you should be a little more careful...who knows what could happen tonight. Anywhere you'd like to be taken? I'm on from midnight, but before my shift starts..."

"...I'll manage, I think." _This is weird..._

The G-Soldier grinned. "'I like a girl with spirit'...is that what you're expecting me to say?"

"No!"

"Well, that's not why I'm here. Y'see...someone close to you took something important from me...I'm...upset, if you will. Thus..."

Fire spat from his hand, quicker than she'd expected, but he'd misjudged the distance, and she was able to sidestep the bolt. As the G-Soldier closed the distance, she ran to meet him, an action not associated with mugging victims. Just before collision: "Float!" The G-soldier, suddenly standing five feet higher, skidded to avoid collision with a fire escape, one of his feet glancing of the side of her face as she ducked under him. Another fireball hissed over her shoulder, but by then she'd put distance between them, and the G-soldier was too smart to follow her somewhere he could be seen.

_Parade route, then. What in hell was that about?_

000000000

No one took him up on his offer of cards, unsurprisingly...there were limits to unprofessionalism, even though the crowd had thinned dramatically. The majority of the remainder were probably following Edea's float. The anticipation of chaos drifted into, well, standing on a street corner for two hours, as boring as any other duty. Of course, that gave them all time to _think_ about just how fucked up things were likely to get in the near future. Sorceress Edea had taken over the Galbadian Government, and no one violently usurped a president just in passing. She was going to do something with that power. The easiest way to express political power in Galbadia was through the army.

A few arrests were made, civilians who were either handling their weapons too amateurishly or with too much skill. Nothing much happened, but anyone could taste the mood. Bewilderment was fading, and some people were thinking hard enough to realise that if the Sorceress finished the parade unchallenged, she would be much harder to remove from then on.

A hellish night was imminent. But until then, three Galbadian soldiers stood guarding an empty parade route, swords drawn and twitching at every new sound.

Military boots on concrete. Zephon spun, twisting into a centre guard position, and hesitated.

"You can't be here already...What happened with the show? ...Did I faint?" He glanced at the clock tower, and confirmed to his relief he had not blacked out or been Stopped.

"We...saw it from the hotel. The manager decided to close so he could hide in the basement. ...How've things been here?" Matt, his sword sheathed but both hands resting on the hilt. Ker had a hand on the sheathed sword slung on her back, but her left hand was at her side, palm open and ready to cast.

"Quiet, considering. But it'll probably heat up before dawn."

"Shut up! It's not over yet!" Thras.

"Point. Thras, Pheles, this is Matt, Kersan, and Tess, they were in my squad at Dollet...sort of. These two are in my dorm in the city garrison."

"Ooh! What does he look like?" Tess.

Thrasymachus smiled. "Marble statue, totally. That's been hit by a hammer a couple of times and left in a swamp." _Hmm... Did I just hear 'friendly mockery' rather than 'I hate you' mockery? I can't tell._

"Sure. You guys ought to see Ker sometime, she looks unreal out of uniform."

Slight pause, Kersan twitching under the regard of the males. What they could see of her lower jaw did little to confirm or deny the assertion.

"Have you heard anything? What's going to happen now?" Pheles. At the question, the façade broke.

"No." Tess, very quietly. "The senior officers have gone to ground in case they're next. We heard a pair of golems attacked General Roce, but his guards took them down with RPGs. It doesn't look like orders are going to reach us. Have any of you seen Lieutenant Keviss? She was supposed to give us our assignments when we reported in, but there's nobody at dispatch. Nobody at all, it's like the garrison just disappeared."

Her voice died. No one had anything else to say.

Then, Zephon: "Did you see what happened to T?"

"Huh?" Tess.

"Not you, my sister. My sister. Name's Thrustaevis −I know, it's not her fault, be nice. I'll call you T2 from now on to avoid confusion."

"What, is three syllables too long to remember?" Ker.

Everyone smiled, for just a moment.

"So, where is she?"

"Last I saw, she was changing out of heels...Would've went back, but we were conscripted into crowd control for a while." Matt.

"He's been watching her pretty closely all night..." Tess, corner of her mouth twitching.

"Yeah, well, if you do see her, tell her to go home as soon as she can. If I could leave, I'd go looking, hope she's okay."

"Heads up, guys." Thrasymachus. An officer was threading his way through what remained of the crowd. The six Galbadians snapped to attention.

"Sir!"

"All of you assigned here?"

"Just us." Pheles, pointing at the original guards.

"I see. How's the night been going so far?"

"Quiet. We were rushed once, but they all backed off after we put two in hospital."

"Good work. It's probably going to get a hell of a lot uglier before morning, though. We can't thin out the crowds any more without Edea noticing, so you're not going to have much to do for a while, but be ready."

_This is it._

"For..." Pheles.

"Getting everyone out of here in a hurry." _Oh, ok. _"You others, what are you doing here?"

"We're on from midnight, sir, but we thought the city'd need every soldier they had to hand. We couldn't get an assignment, so we've been trying to get an update on what's happening from the soldiers on the street." Kersan, saluting.

"Good idea, but don't loiter. If you're just standing around, you'll make people nervous. Keep circulating, and do not draw your weapons unless you're going to use them. Clear?"

"Yes, sir. Do you know what's happening?"

"You probably know more than me, everyone above Captain has disappeared."

With the lieutenant (according to his tags, his name was Meaks) addressing the others, Zephon had returned to restlessly scanning the crowds. He blinked.

"Sir, may I be excused a moment? I won't go far."

"Be quick."

"Yes, sir." He stepped into the crowd, moving up to catch Thrustaevis by the wrist where she lurked near the back of the watchers. She spun, one hand sparkling with fire driving towards his face. He snapped his head aside from the strike− unhelmeted, she would have blinded him.

"It's me! Put that out or someone will hurt you, and _calm down!_ What are you doing here, where's− what happened?"

The make up was smudged on her right cheek, and the beginning of a large, spreading bruise was evident beneath it. His sister glanced at the other masked soldiers, then down. "Someone's elbow caught me in the melee. It's not bad."

Zephon glanced at the lieutenant, then moved slightly further away, enough that they wouldn't be able to read his lip movement.

"It's me you're talking to. What really happened?"

"I...was attacked, by someone in army uniform. Said 'someone close to me' took something important. That's either you, Dad, or my date, and he was too boring to have any enemies...you know something about this, don't you?"

Zephon took a step back, drew a couple of deep breaths. "Maybe...did anyone see this? CCTV?"

"Back alley."

"Oh, _that_ was smart."

"Fuck you, it was really scary! I wanted to get home quick, keep Dad from coming looking."

"Sorry. Fuck's sake, Donny, since when was losing a card game worth revenge attacks! I'd have given it back if he explained!"

" Cards? That's what this is about? I was assaulted because _you beat someone at cards?"_

"Well how was I supposed to know?" He grounded his swordpoint, putting weight on it until he could trust himself to stand. Thrustaevis stepped back, looked up.

"Okay...what are we going to do?"

Zephon closed his eyes behind his mask, took a breath. "Nothing."

"_What!"_

He caught her shoulders. "Listen to me. You saw a Galbadian soldier. It could've been anyone. There's only my testimony to make it who I think it is, with no independent witnesses. Donny's a better fighter than me, so he's of more value to the army, which means his word is worth more than mine at a military court-martial."

"You fought him? I thought this was about cards!"

"No, I didn't, but most of the army is better than me, I spent too much time playing with magic and not enough with my sword. There's no point in pursuing this, T, it'll just look like you're angling for compo. _I_ believe you, I do, but a court martial won't. They don't convict soldiers for just civilian complaints. Sorry, I know how you must feel, but making a fuss without evidence is just a waste of time. Ask Dad. But...uh, do me a favour and don't tell him what happened, because he'll go hunting, and we don't need another thing to worry about right now."

"That's...acceptable. You weren't there, he was really going to hurt me." Zephon felt his palms heat, but suppressed the impulse.

"Murdering a soldier's a capital crime, Thrustaevis, you want Dad to be charged for that? I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry, but without some kind of objective evidence, which I really hope you don't have, there's nothing we can do. ...How'd you escape, but the way?"

"Cast Float, he clotheslined himself on a fire escape."

_Wow...If I'd been in that alley, I'd have taken a beating, but my little sister beat him up __with one spell. It wasn't even black magic, so she can't be charged for assault. That's borderline genius._

_...What is wrong with me tonight? Focus!_

"Can...can you take me home? I don't think I want to try on my own."

_Oh, Godddd..._

"...No. I can't, I'm...assigned here until...probably dawn, now, if I leave, it counts as desertion, and I have to explain why to a military court tomorrow morning. I'm sorry, I can't... I'll see if I can't do something. Hold on."

He returned to his post, but the lieutenant had moved on. And his visitors were preparing to leave.

"Dammit...listen, Matt, Tess, do you mind taking a detour while you're circulating? T's pretty rattled; do you think you could take her home? Please? You're not assigned for another four hours, right?"

"That was her who punched you? Of course." Matt.

Tess cocked her head. "Are you going to call us in on that revenge mission?"

"Not this time. I'm warning you, if anything happens on the way, anything at all..."

"Yeah, you'll come looking for us. I understand. Don't worry, we'll keep her safe. Promise."

He clasped her hand. "Thanks. I mean it."

Thrustaevis shivered, looked at Zephon. _Am I going to be okay? You trust them?_

He lifted his shoulders with a slight nod. _I think so. Best I can do, it's that or stay here until morning._

Breath, slow blink. _Okay. Hope you're right._

Exhalation. _Good luck._

"Well, uh, goodnight, then. See you tomorrow. Regen!"

Matt looked at her as the spell settled on her brother's shoulders. "White Mage?"

"Yeah, I know, I'm a walking gender stereotype. Sue me." Most of the time, that would have been just conversation, but there was a bite in her tone tonight. "I didn't put much thought into resisting societal pressures when I was nine. Sorry to disappoint you."

"I'm not complaining, it's great to have a White as battle support!"

_Please be safe._ They left. Ker lingered. "How far is it?"

"Maybe twenty minutes, each way. You'll be back in time for your shift, I promise."

"Yeah, come back when you're done, so we know you got there safe. It'd be a shame to lose anyone tonight." Pheles.

Ker plucked at her right sleeve. "I'll try, but we could get snatched if we're needed somewhere else."

"I understand. Be seeing you, hopefully. Nice tat, by the way." Phel.

Ker smiled, for the first time Zephon could remember, tugging her collar up over the intricate tattoo of an olive tree on the left side of her neck. "Thanks. If I don't come back, see you at the next general assembly. Better go, before I lose them."

She followed the others,

_I should really pay more attention to her._

On the other side of the concourse in front of the Presidential Rez, Edea's float turned into the square, heading for the central arch. There was a scuffle in the crowd, and a grenade detonated under the Ambassadorial float, denting the reinforced frame. Galbadian soldiers wrestled the perpetrator away before the knight could deliver summary justice.

Pheles looked back as the float left the square.

"What happened with your sister?"

"...Nothing."

"She tried to maim you, Zephon. The way you were talking, I had the impression you two were close. What happened?"

"...Fine. An attack, by someone in Galbadian uniform. Said they'd lost something important."

Pheles took a step back. "No...no way. He wouldn't..."

"Someone did. It could be a Timber Resistance impersonator for all we know."

"Attacking a random citizen? Maybe, but... Listen, I'll talk to him. I knew he was upset, but...shit, that's too far. If anything does happen, I'm in on that revenge mission that girl was talking about...what did you say her name was?"

"Tess. And thanks, but I don't think that will arise. I can't vouch for Ker's prettiness or lack, but she's a really good fencer, blade to blade almost as quick as a SeeD."

"Yeah? Maybe I should ask for a spar sometime..."

"Mind if I referee the first bout? Should be worth watching. After that I'll leave you to get to know each other. Might sell tickets or someth-"

Their heads snapped around as the central arch gates crashed down, just as Edea was passing beneath them. A simple, effective tactic, but why was nobody moving? If anything was going to happen, it would be now. Edea swept to her feet, eyes roving the retreating crowd, waiting for someone to step forward and challenge her. Ten, eleven, twelve seconds−

**BANG**

The blue flash of Protective Magic −_of course− _triggered a collective exhalation from the watchers that could be explained later as either disappointment or relief depending on who was doing the questioning.

_Clock tower...a high point that only appears at 8:00, giving a clear shot at that exact moment, but staying hidden until then. Smart. And probably pre-planned, Someone wanted her dead before the coup. Just one shot, unluck−_

Like everyone else, Zephon had been watching the central arch, and missed the shadow detaching itself from the podium, landing on a soldier across the way. The victim hit the ground with a crunch of bone, but subsequently started screaming and thus was probably okay. The assassin scrambled into a convenient car and roared towards the Sorceress' position. The Galbadian security forces watched it go.

"Hey, that's the SeeD from the broadcast!" Thras.

"SeeD v Sorceress, huh?" Pheles.

Nothing blocked the assassin's path. As gunblades began to clash, Thrasymachus threw down a coin.

"Three hundred gil on the sorceress."

Zephon sighed. "I don't carry cash. Three Red Bats and a Gesper do?"


	16. Assassins

**Assassins**

Torches flickered on Edea's float, light reflecting from the flashing blades, with the occasional burst of sparks at a collision. The Sorceress watched with mild interest as her bodyguard drove forward, slicing the assassin's shoulder before the strike was batted aside. Seifer pulled back with more speed than someone committed to swinging a blade an instant before had a right to, and the blade's very tip gashed the fabric of his coat. Fire spat from Almasy's free hand, knocking Leonhart back a step, but he firmed his stance in time to meet the subsequent strike. Junctioned muscle bunched under his coat, forcing the Sorceress' knight back four steps, just stopping short of bumping into his mistress.

Squall Leonhart stood very still, confronted by several unpleasant facts. Seifer Almasy was probably not junctioned, but nonetheless was matching him strike for strike. Had the sorceress chosen to intervene, he would already be either dead or driven off. Becoming a knight had advantages, it would seem. Junctioned, he could beat Seifer, but he'd have very little left to face the sorceress afterwards, and her expression indicated she wasn't particularly worried by an assassin (A SeeD, no less) getting this close. Like a good bodyguard, Seifer was taking pains to keep between him and the sorceress, but throwing magic at her would invite retaliation, and he knew he couldn't take both of them at once.

Fortunately, there was a shortcut. When he hadn't pressed the attack, Seifer had held back too, giving them both a chance to catch their breath. Now Squall faded from view, gunblade slicing the space where he had been as Seifer caught on.

Quetzalcoatl's attack blasted the knight backwards, directly into Edea's Protection, stray strands of lightning repelled by a Shell as her bodyguard spilled forward into an insensate, twitching heap between assassin and ambassador.

"I...lost..."

Edea took a step forward, clear of her chair, raising a hand.

"A Seed..." she said. Squall stepped forward, but something in her voice caused him to hesitate. "...planted in a run down Garden..."

Recovering, Squall started to run, gunblade rising.

On his second step, he pulled up, one foot meeting a six feet high block of magical ice, which took three bullet impacts and a pinwheel projectile, before flashing to steam in a column of fire a heartbeat later. His Shell, summoned on the run, rose into place in time to meet a sheet of lightning erupting at his feet, knocking him to his knees, before a wall of ice fountained again, meeting a fire spell and more bullets from behind. Curative magics helped him rise into a battle stance, but the frozen flower gave him no clear targets. Unwilling to take the time to summon again, he glanced back at the sharpshooter and the civilian, nodding his acknowledgement as pink shells flared into place around them. Rinoa was a quick learner, he'd give her that. In his glance back, she snatched a breath and threw out a Firaga, which collided with Edea's defensive expanding flower of sorceous ice.

Magic met sorcery. There'd only ever been one result from such a clash. Granted, magical flames ate at the icy barrier, shards spilling free to slide across the surface of the float. One whistled by Rinoa's left ear.

Another Blizzaga rose in place of the last as Squall began another charge, but this time he didn't stop, one foot landing on the tip of the conjuration as he bore down on the sorceress from above. Then her Firaga obliterated his footing −he landed, seated in front of the Sorceress as another Blizzaga scored a direct hit, encasing the SeeD, and his magical Shell, in ice. With one of her attackers out of the equation for the moment, Edea focused on the sharpshooter. With steam from ice melt hazing the air, the sniper wasn't finding her an easy target, and his aim was thrown off again as he had to sidestep electricity erupting at his feet. Fire blossomed, flaring towards him, but the shooter swivelled behind the block of ice encasing the squad leader. Another Thundaga burst from beneath him, a blind strike, but which blackened the hem of his coat.

Fire erupted from the encased ice, and Squall stumbled free, taking a breath before coming up with blade in hand and forming up for a charge.

And then the three SeeDs faded from view. The elements of the Galbadian army that were lingering nearby, just beyond crossfire range, took a collective breath, waiting for the demon or dragon that SeeDs so often summoned. Instead, a small, adorable creature materialised with a gem set into its forehead, which flared bright. A mage would have recognised Reflections sliding into place in front of the reappearing SeeDs. The watchers regard sharpened. Edea had been throwing out level three spells like they were worthless, and so far the SeeDs hadn't been able to lay a blade or bullet on her. But what would she do, confronted with a barrier that reflected most magic back at the caster? Even the SeeDs hesitated, waiting.

Edea cocked her head, raising one hand, ice forming in horizontal spikes. The SeeDs watched.

The icebolt went through the Reflects like they weren't there, taking the squad leader high in the shoulder. Thrown back, he pitched back over the end of the float. The girl who'd summoned lunged after him, her scream trailing. Some of the watchers smiled.

_Two for one, not bad._

Sniper snapped the gun to his shoulder and fired. This time, Edea didn't react in time, the round causing her protective shield to flare blue. In the moment when her vision was obscured, the sniper was gone.

000000

Irvine backed away from the float, still firing. He was the only member of this team suited to this kind of mission, the only one who knew how to get away quietly after sniping a target. And one of the things you had to bear in mind was to always have a second plan. The Galbadians, having watched the clash with some interest, finally saw fit to intervene, converging to drag away the impaled Squall and struggling Rinoa. When approaching the float, he'd put a few rounds into the fuel tank before climbing up, and it'd been leaking out during the fight.

He spared a moment to glance at Rinoa, but she was already surrounded and in no mood to flee, pumping curatives into Squall. She'd been impressive during the fight, he had to admit...Squall had found a GF in one of Edea's lizard golems, and had junctioned it to the civilian to help her durability. ...To be capable of summoning on your first attempt in a fraught battle situation...not bad. Once they were clear, he slid rounds from a separate pouch from his normal ammunition. The Fire Shot ignited, lifting the entire float vertically, with the gates of the arch containing most of the shrapnel. Magical shields ignited on the float. Some Galbadians who had been closing in on the sniper turned to look at the pretty explosion, and in that moment Irvine abandoned hat, coat, and rifle and ran.

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Soldiers had gathered around the entrance to the gate switches, but no one had charged yet, not being eager to climb up a ladder into a roomful of SeeDs. So they hesitated. They parted as Captain Elliott approached.

"What's happening?"

"We're waiting for gas, but there's a connection to the sewers inside. You want us to follow, sir?"

"An enclosed space? We'd walk into their laps. No, cordon off the doorway, and knock out anyone coming out. Don't try to take the building, they're probably already gone. You've got any orders?"

"None that've got through, sir. Do you?"

"None. In their absence, here's what we're going to do. They want to run like rats, let's treat them accordingly. You, you and you, head to the power station and tell them to open the sluices. Take separate routes. Maintain a solid cordon−"

"Are you mad? You'll drive the monsters up into the streets!"

A metal gauntlet snapped forward, lifting the speaker by the throat.

"Have you ever seen what a Sorceress can do firsthand? If we have nothing to show her tomorrow morning, she could raze this city to the ground. Believe me, this's the better option."

"...yeah? And you're willing to take responsibility for that if it doesn't work?" A voice from the mass of soldiers, unidentifiable.

"If necessary. If you're stopped, direct any complaints to me, but until I get countermanded, I expect you to obey, Corporal, am I understood?"

"Sir."

"Good." The grip relaxed, spilling the soldier to the ground, where he grabbed at his throat. One hand twitched towards his sword, but he didn't draw. Or get up. After a moment, the Captain gestured for two others to take the gurgling soldier to the medical station.

"Maintain a solid cordon here just in case. Twenty, thirty people, standing apart, no clusters. You, you, and you, head to the LCR stations and tell them we're going to have a citywide Level two lunar cry alert in the next hour. The rest of you, spread out, start parking cars over every manhole you can find. Commandeer the route guards for greater coverage, I get the feeling this parade's over. Everyone hear me? Good, get going. Bring two military vehicles here for our prisoners, if you capture a SeeD alive I want them disarmed and chained separately. Manacles, Odine Brand cuffs, status effects, the works. Keep them unconscious as long as we can, take no chances at all."

Continuing walking he met six soldiers supporting a girl in blue, kneeling at the side of an unconscious boy in a black jacket, throwing spell after spell into knitting a wound in his shoulder. A soldier had the edge of his blade to the back of her neck, as insurance against her casting anything else.

He passed by, then climbed through the grille, where water spells were quenching the last of the flames.

"Madam Sorceress? Ambassador?"

Coughing, then a rush of magically propelled air, revealing the Sorceress, bruised and with charred patches on her dress, but not badly hurt. She'd dragged her knight close in the last moments within her magical barriers, which seemed to be something of a good sign.

"I find myself less than impressed my welcome to this city, Captain."

"My humblest apologies, Madam. I have soldiers scouring the city as we spe−"

"There's no need."

"...Em...no?"

"One of my assassins introduced herself to me as 'the daughter of General Caraway.' I think a simple cordon around his home should be satisfactory in apprehending them."

"...Em...with all due respect, Madam Sorceress, assassins don't usually introduce themselves to targets by their real name. I have a ten year old that gives an alias when he's caught throwing stones."

"...Perhaps both, then."

"As you order." The Captain saluted, and then turned and walked away. As he passed the healer girl, she once more began to struggle. Leaning towards her ear he whispered "Don't make us hurt you. Daddy wouldn't like that, would he?"

She sagged.

_Oh, General..._

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Shiva disappeared in a burst of blue sparks, having lined the sewer bottom in two foot of solid ice back the way the SeeDs had come. It would slow down pursuit. The SeeDs had had to slow down too, to avoid slipping on damp moss or smeared effluent, so every edge they could get would be of use. Quistis Trepe, unwilling figurehead of at least two cults at last count, stepped quickly, her thoughts back at the arch she'd just left.

"Think we got her?" Zell asked, ripping an iron ladder out of the wall and throwing it across the sewer bed to act as a bridge. There were no windows viewing the inside of the arch in the control room.

"...I don't know. We closed the gate in time," –_barely-_ "but there's no way to tell."

"Where do you think Rinoa went?" Selphie, hands glittering with uncast magic, her eyes watching in every direction. "The General won't like it if we go back without her."

"We should never have gone back. We almost failed the mission because of me."

"Yeah, why'd you want to apologise so bad, anyway?"

Quistis would've liked to close her eyes and think, but there wasn't time. "I don't know. Why did you follow me? I could have gone back on my own."

"Yeah, but who would've expected the house to lock us in? What kind of parenting is that?" Selphie.

"The normal kind, I think. There's probably a riot on the streets right now."

"Think she went after the Sorceress herself?"

Quistis exhaled. "I hope not." She still couldn't understand the sudden compulsion to return that had overtaken her. If not for the fact that they were still alive, she would have said it was sorcery. It'd almost cost them their part in the mission, which seemed too convenient to be coincidence. What had come over her? Some buried moral qualm against assassination? This hadn't been her first mission that would end in blood, and she'd never quailed before. Was it just that the Sorceress had saved Seifer where she had failed? It seemed unlikely that Sorceress Edea was some kind of long lost friend. Strange. Speaking of which...

She cocked her head. "They should be on our trail by now." But there was silence from behind. Galbadian military boots could not easily cross a causeway dotted with shards of half melted ice without making noise. "Something's wrong."

The SeeDs sped up, occasionally slipping in their haste, but nothing pursued. At a corner, Zell stopped.

"Hear that? From ahead of us." Some kind of roar, progressively getting louder.

Pause, then, in three voices: "Oh no."

They were standing at an X junction between two sewer tunnels. The noise was coming from more than one, although at varying distances.

"Blizzaga!" The spell formed across the passageway directly ahead of them in time to meet the torrent of brown tinged water, Red Bats and Creeps (creatures resembling shadow wraiths with eyes) scrambling ahead of it. The Blizzaga slowed the floor to ceiling deluge, and the SeeDs used the brief respite to scatter in three different directions.

It was an obvious, if impressively ruthless step with fugitives in the sewer system. Even SeeDs needed to breathe, and by the time they surfaced, they'd be tired, would have used some of their offensive magic, and probably be spattered with sewer mud, making blending into crowds a challenge. With any luck, the sniper team would have had an easier escape.

000000

The padlock broke on his second kick, as Irvine slipped in the gate to the weir. He'd been close enough to see the messengers leave, and had the advantage of the other SeeDs in that he knew his way around Deling City. Having guessed the destination, he'd moved as fast as he could, pausing only to retrieve a long, pointed shard of glass from a broken shop window.

There were two guards at the door to the control room. Usually, there'd be more, but the city garrison was extremely stretched tonight. Irvine walked placidly up to them, nodding in acknowledgement as they barred his way.

In some ways, he knew, he had more difficulty than the others on the team. They'd all killed soldiers before, and had learned not to give it much thought, seeing the Galbadian uniforms as just targets. But Irvine had grown up in Galbadia Garden, which had always sent some of its graduates right into the G-army, and he could rarely put a bullet through a Galbadian helmet without wondering if he would recognise the face under it as somebody he'd had classes with, been on the same sports team, or maybe even actually been friends with. It was one of the reasons he'd trained as a sniper to begin with... his missions tended to involve one specific target who'd done something to deserve the shot, rather than just being in the wrong place, at the wrong time, in the wrong uniform.

Or so he liked to think, anyway.

"Who are you?" asked the guard on the left, her sword drifting into a guard position.

"I'm a mercenary in town for the party, but since they were stretched, they sent me up here to help out. General Jahnsen'd vouch for me if he was here."

That name could induce a tremor in most Galbadians, but these two didn't flinch.

"Well, he's not. What's your name?"

"Carter." He handed across the forged order. Working on Galbadian soil, it paid to carry a few 'do not impede the bearer' documents.

"Yeah? And can you fight? What's your favourite weapon?"

"I can handle most types of guns. Not carrying right now, though. I was just here for the show."

"Okay. We don't really have time for this, but I'll see what I can do." She glanced sideways at the other guard. "Go look in the armoury, get him something decent."

"Good luck, Elle." The guard walked away. When he had disappeared from sight, Elle sighed.

"I was not planning on dying tonight. Best laid plans, huh? So, SeeD, what now? I know I can't stop you getting in here."

"Just put down the sword and step back."

Elle rubbed her jaw with her free hand. "See, here's the thing... there are certain things you get away with, like not stepping in front of a charging Behemoth, and some things you can't. If you're assigned to guard a door to a secure control room, and you step back, that's a court martial. Can get executed for cowardice, but then my next of kin doesn't get the gratuity. So, SeeD, you're going to have to come through me. Who knows, maybe I'll even delay you a little."

Irvine lunged, shard of glass sliding out of his sleeve. Elle swung the sword, and Irvine clamped her arm against his side, but her other hand grabbed his stabbing wrist and drove it into her armour, where the weapon shattered in his hand. Thick leather gloves spared his fingers the worst, but it still stung.

Wrenching his arm free, he slapped her with his shard embedded hand, lacerating the side of her face, then drove one heel into the side of her knee. On reflex, he swept the hand in again and ripped out her throat as she fell.

The officer that came to investigate from the inner room was greeted by a fist. He went down instantly. As such, there was no need to kill this one. After breaking both legs, Irvine adjusted the settings and on the panel and finished by peppering it with the lieutenant's gun-gauntlet. Then he fled. He had no way of knowing whether he'd done any good, but his night wasn't over yet.

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Zell snatched a red bat out of the air on the run, crushing it to pulp between his fingers. The sewers were nasty tonight, and he couldn't even summon Ifrit without bringing down the ceiling. Even Fire Spells could trigger an explosion if he wasn't careful. There was also the fact that he was being chased by some unidentifiable huge, slimy creature stirred up by the flooding, which was smashing through the sewer's steel grilles as though they weren't there. Shells had enabled him to stay underground when the sewers had flooded completely, and eventually the flow had ebbed.

Trying to turn a corner, Zell slipped on damp stone, righting himself landing in waist deep sludge. He spun to face the thing as it whipped its tail, sending a small wave of the stuff towards him. SeeD or not, he was swept off his feet, colliding with a ladder hard enough to crack ribs. Scrambling up, he punched the manhole lid up, throwing it aside and running a short distance from the entrance before turning. With the space here, he could put his training to use.

The thing burst through the concrete road like a landmine, but this collision took a toll, and it was weaving as it stood up, searching for its departed prey.

A lavaball twenty feet across obliterated everything of the monster above the hips. Zell, when he reappeared, flicked gunk from his fingers and turned away, but the detonation had attracted a patrol, and four simultaneous Sleep Spells took him off his feet.

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Selphie crouched in the shadow of the central arch. Edea had gone home −she was still alive, apparently, and not even very badly hurt− and there were a few soldiers around, but not too many. The army was scouring the city, but had a minimal presence at the scene of the assassination, assuming the SeeDs had fled as far and fast as they could. Caraway's manor wasn't that far away, and once things died down a little, she could make her way there.

There was just one problem. A Galbadian soldier had taken up station directly in front of her, and did not seem to be moving any time soon. As the moon rose, the shadow she was hiding in was getting gradually more pale and penetrable. Someone was going to look this way eventually. While he lit his second cigarette (with a Fire Spell) Selphie grasped both ends of her weapon and hooked the chain around his neck from behind.

Or tried to. In that instant, he'd raised the cigarette to his mouth, and the chain hooked around his arm as well as his throat. Junctioned strength meant that the wrist snapped, but the soldier didn't choke, and first sent a Fire spell skyward, and then another over his shoulder, striking Selphie in the face, snapping her head back. Losing her grip on one end of the nunchuku, Selphie shifted her grip and swung properly as the soldier spun to face her, left hand hanging limp but eyes blazing.

The attack struck his temple, splitting his skull.

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Quistis stepped lightly through the crowd assembling at the front of the presidential residence. It had been a risk, since some soldiers would know her face from the broadcast, but she'd done what she could about that, breaking into a public bathroom to cut her hair slightly and tie it up into something more parade worthy. Her jacket was now inside out and wrapped around her waist by the sleeves, doing its best to hide the sewer mud stains on her skirt, whip coiled under it. That done, she'd joined the gathering crowd, taking a bottle of water from a soldier handing them out, and settling to wait until morning. The army wasn't _stopping_ anyone from going home, but they would ask questions of anyone trying to leave, and try to provide an escort. For civilian crowd control, the Galbadian army was stocked with Sleep. Coincidentally, status effects were also the army's best means of incapacitating SeeDs, meaning that the assassins were in real danger. As a SeeD, the feeling was pretty unusual.

Stepping closer to the gates of the Residence, the phrase 'general's daughter' caught her ear. She moved closer to the two soldiers, who were whispering, but junction enhanced senses could pick up their conversation.

"Well, Caraway's in for a surprise tomorrow morning. Where is he, anyway?"

"No one knows...except maybe Rinoa, and she's not talking. He'll crawl out of the woodwork once he finds out, though. There's no way he'll leave her to Edea's custody."

_They know he's involved...his house!_

When she stepped clear of the crowd, two soldiers stepped up immediately. "Everything okay, Ma'am?"

"...I'm tired. I'd like to go home, if I could."

" We've tents and sleeping bags coming out in a moment, but if you're sure... If you wait a while, we'll get somebody to see you home. It's not wise to wander off just now, there's monsters up from the sewers. And maybe even SeeDs. Where do you live?"

She gave an address she knew to be vacant from previous visits on the city. "I'll manage, thank you." and stepped past them.

"Good luck, Ma'am."

They waited. Then:

"Muddy boots." Quistis spun, but two Sleep spells were already en route.

000000

When Selphie stepped into the path to Caraway's mansion, a dart took her in the side of the neck before she took her second step, followed a heartbeat later by two more from snipers in different trees. When she didn't immediately fall, they kept firing. The Galbadian army preferred not to go head to head with SeeDs where possible, and the mudstains on her thighs was enough to mark her for detention. G-soldiers spilled out from the manor's front door, maybe twenty with an officer in tow, sprinting to put Odine cuffs on the prisoner.

And that was when the non-Galbadian sniper opened up from the park across the road. He targeted the Galbadians in the trees first, giving the soldiers on the ground time to huddle together in front of the officer. One almost immediately went down to a bullet in the shin, soldiers responding with Fire that had no sting by the time it reached their target. Another soldier howled, having taken a round, again in the leg. One Galbadian tugged up the captured girl in front of him−he took a bullet between the eyes, as a token of the shooter's displeasure. Fire spells rose skyward, laying out the SeeD's position for surrounding patrols, when they arrived. Lightning arced down, tearing up the ground to either side of the mercenary, who began backing away. The next shot was an AP bullet, as evidenced by it tearing away the entire leg of its target. Accidental? Maybe.

By now the officer had gathered himself, and a Protective blue shield formed in front of the huddle of soldiers. The next three shots didn't incapacitate a target, as the Captain gave his orders.

"You five, take our captive inside. The rest, with me."

And, apart from those tending the wounded, they charged. Unfortunately, their attacker retreated long before they reached his position.

The Captain brought a hand to his face, settling on the grass.

"Well, we got somebody. Given that someone tried to defend her, she must be guilty of something."

A soldier looked up. "I recognised the face from that broadcast, she's definitely a SeeD. So, we finally got one. What do we do with her?"

"Nothing, for now. That's up to Edea. I doubt anyone else'll be coming. Let's get back inside."

"Call it a night, sir?"

"I'm afraid not. SeeD aren't the only monsters on the streets tonight, gentlemen. Our troubles are far from over, and it's still a long time until dawn."

Grass rustled. The patrol spun. "Who's there?" a soldier called.

"Lieutenant Daniels and escort, 3rd Deling City Patrol Regiment." The Lieutenant stepped into view, dogtags raised, escorted by a good fifteen soldiers. They'd seen action. "What are you doing here, Captain...?

"Kylemont. What about you?"

"Undead monsters tried to assassinate General Caraway, he sent us to check on his daughter. Did he order you to enter his home?"

"...No. But we had reason to believe that the SeeDs who made an attempt on the life of our head of state would pass nearby. I'm afraid his daughter isn't here."

"Then where is she?"

"I don't know. What have you heard?"

Nothing much. You?"

"Same. But we need SeeD to know that they can't just waltz in and kill a Galbadian official and get away with it."

Pause. "...Why? Shouldn't we just send them back to do it properly?"

Behind them, soldiers began carefully not letting their hands drift to their swordhilts. The officers' stares locked.

"I didn't hear that, Lieutenant. Now, Ms. Caraway is not at home, you have my word on that. If you doubt me, I will be more than happy to take you into the house to look for her. I do not know where she is gone."

The Lieutenant licked his lips, hesitated. His eyes flicked to the second floor balconies, caught a glint of metal. The hard eyed defending soldiers.

"That ... That won't be necessary, Captain. Good night." Lieutenant Daniels turned and walked away. Soldiers began to breathe. There could well be civil war before the dawn, but they would not be the ones to spark it.


	17. Hunter

**Helper**

Zooming out, Zephon handed over the cards to Thrasymachus. SeeD had let him down −formidable as they were, the Sorceress was more powerful still, taking them on at three to one odds and prevailing, without even appearing to stretch herself. He didn't quite know how he should feel about that. On the one hand, Galbadia now had a leader that would not allow herself to be bullied by the mercenaries, and SeeD would be best served by avoiding tangling with her. On the other hand, if SeeD couldn't take down a Sorceress...who could?

As the gathering soldiers finally saw fit to detain the losers, an explosion erupted inside the cage, prompting the soldiers to hiss with some emotion they themselves couldn't identify. Messengers scattered from the arch, G-soldiers stopping at every squad to spread new orders, but it'd be a while before it reached them.

"So," Thrasymachus said, eyes still on the central arch, "was that the mystical twin telepathic connection thing I saw back there? Just before she left?"

"Yup." Zephon, noticing his hand on his sheathed sword, let it rest at his side. "Takes a lot of effort to do right, though. A real skill."

"How does it work?"

"Not hard if you've got the time. You have to go through a rigorous training programme, known as 'spending most of your life in the same building.'"

"I see. I'll bear that in mind." Near the arch, the flames were dying down. Edea had emerged and a battered Seifer was back on his feet, beginning to walk towards the gate of the Presidential Rez escorted by a dozen soldiers who weren't sure who they were guarding from what.

"Of course, she also has this weird 'female intuition' type thing, which always used to piss me off. How come girls can have a, like, spider sense? That's just unfair."

Now the other two were laughing, watching Edea walk towards them. Thrasymachus shivered, his armour rattling.

"Can I hazard a guess?" Pheles, trying to school his face as the procession drew nearer.

"Why not?"

"Maybe she's just smarter than you."

"...Could be. Girls get to inherit Hyne's legacy, after all."

"Yeah, and look how that turned out!" Thrasymachus, gesturing around them. "This is why women should stay out of politics."

As they'd been talking Edea had been gradually nearing the gates. As she arrived, there was a sudden hush, so that Thrasymachus' final statement floated across the concourse as the gates creaked open. An even deeper hush, as Edea turned to look at him for a long moment.

Thrasymachus swallowed, watching the sorceress raise a hand glittering with magic.

"Go ahead. Prove me right."

Further long pause. Then Edea turned away. Zephon took a step to one side, one hand drifting inside his armour, closing around the hilt of the chef's knife.

_Five feet...no Protection at her back...Seifer will intercept, but I might just make it._

His attention drifted to the stretcher with the assassin on it, passing by.

_SeeD, huh? Eeeny, meeny...either way, I'll leave the world a better place._

_...And get impaled for my trouble. Nah...Will I regret this? ...Did you, Dad?_

He stood, motionless. Five heartbeats. Ten.

_Not worth it. _

The gate creaked shut behind Edea.

Pause, then Thras, out loud: "On the record, folks, I'd like to clarify that I intended my previous statement for irony. It does not reflect my opinion or that of the Galbadian armed forces, which has a gender balance of 35-40 percent or thereabouts according to recent surveys."

Several seconds of total silence, and then two hundred people hit their knees, laughing so hard they were crying. Or maybe the other way round.

A sergeant finally reached their street corner, grinning.

"Better get you out of here before you get stoned, guys. Parade's over, you don't need to stand here. Now listen carefully.

"SeeD flooded the sewers to cover their escape, there's monsters all over the streets now. The LCR garrison is scrambling, but since the parade's over, you're needed somewhere else. Go find citizens and bring them back here, Red Bats are going to be scrambling up the pipes all over the city. Until we declare it's clear, they're better off not wandering alone, and anywhere with access to sewers. So go patrol, deal with monsters you find if you think you can handle them. There shouldn't be anything too high grade around. Get going."

As soon as they started to move, they were accosted by civilians with demands as to what was going on, which they replied to by gripping their swordhilts. The crowd parted

Soldiers began bringing out military field tents, portable toilets, and water canteens to the assembled citizens. The three street guards disappeared, slightly more quickly than might otherwise have been the case.

"Guys...if I disappear, you'll come looking for me, right?" Thras, palms twitching. At their nods, he sighed. "Actually, don't, no need to get you in trouble. I'd rather die than be a Sorceress' lapdog anyway."

Zephon cocked his head. "Serious?"

"Yes. No matter how powerful she is, there's no war without an army. Adel would've been less of a problem if she hadn't got the Estharis to fight for her. I don't know how she managed it."

"Reprisals against the families, mostly. Even then, their hearts weren't really in it. Only reason we held on as long as we did." Pheles.

"Yeah? Well, I'm a war orphan."

"Then why didn't you draw on her back there?" Zephon thought back to his own wavering hand. Would another attack have altered his decision?

"I'm not an idiot. There'll be a better time and place."

"Y'think? Her power's not secure yet, and she was wounded."

"And looking right at me."

"There's that."

The clatter of military boots, and then the patrol met upwards of thirty soldiers with swords drawn, led by a Major, who looked at them and rasped "The Sorceress, for or against?"

The patrol exchanged glances, carefully stock still. Pheles took a step forward, took as breath, then said "Neither. We're hunting monsters." Zephon nodded, Thrasymachus hesitating.

"If you're not for us, you're against us."

Pheles swallowed. "With all due respect, sir, no matter who you're fighting for, you'll have enough to do tonight without making obstacles of people who don't need to be."

The Major looked at them, then jerked his head, moving his men on. Once the patrol had passed a block further down, they breathed again.

"I trust I'll hear no more politics tonight?" Pheles, quiet.

"But−" Thras.

"Shut UP, damn it! Keep your head down and do the job in front of you. You wanna know what's going to happen? This Sorceress will make a big mess and then get taken down hard, just like the last one. If you go up against her, you'll just get killed, so carry out the orders you're given and wait. She won't live forever." It wasn't a shout, because that would broadcast the opinion too far, but the other two stopped at Pheles' voice.

Zephon lowered his eyes. "Fair."

Thrasymachus, quiet. "That attitude is the only reason Adel could cling to power as long as she did. 'Wait and see...' give or take a couple of thousand lives, yeah. And if everyone else is waiting for you to move first?"

"Then they'll stay waiting."

"Ugh...I expect that of Zephon, he's a cynical bastard, but I thought you were better than that, Phel."

"Too bad for you."

_Cynical? Why, yes, I am. Y'see, Thras, I'm __**not**__ a war orphan, so I actually have first hand accounts of what went on back then. Marcus Schwert was not the first to lead a charge against Adel, he was just the first to walk away with most of his body intact._

A scream split the night, and all three soldiers started to run. Phel outpaced the others, his hand spitting fire into the shadows as they turned into an alley. A man in his thirties, dressed in suit, tie, and waistcoat, was standing with his back to a wall, A shallow gash of three pronged claws stretched across his chest

"The Shadows...came alive...they tried to kill me."

_What?_

Thrasymachus took a step forward. "Sir, what you saw is called a Creeps. They're unnerving, but nothing special. If you'll come with us, we'll take you somewhere safe. Sir? Sir?"

"Meredith...Why must you haunt me so?"

"It wasn't a ghost, sir! It's just an animal, and not even a very dangerous one, but if it comes back, it'll take our full attention, so I need you to come with us, okay? Can you hear me, sir? Sir?"

Thrasymachus laid a hand on the civilian's arm, who jerked, one hand twitching to draw from a holster tucked under his left arm. A Sleep spell from Pheles hit him before he had settled his aim, and he toppled back against the wall.

"Well now, that makes things a lot simpler," Thrasymachus said, teeth blossoming. "He almost had me in an ethical dilemma there." Sheathing his sword, he hoisted the man onto his back. "Heavy prick, too. I can't fight like this, so keep your eyes open, guys."

"Okay. I'm point, Zephon, rearguard and flanks. These things are coming up from the sewers, and red bats have wings, so don't forget up and down. Try not to look at lampposts, keep your night vision."

"Yessir."

"Was that sarcasm, soldier? I'm not a sir, I'm not even an NCO."

_No, it wasn't! Those were good orders. _"Reflex. Sorry, si− uhm..."

"I'm joking, calm down."

"Yessir...Oh shit, sorry again."

Fire streaked skywards nearby, and the three soldiers picked up their pace as much as they were able while carrying a civilian. They were obliged to converge on distress signals, although if it was a ruby dragon attack, preserving their quasi-captive's life would take priority.

Three Red Bats were fluttering in circles around five people, in civilian dress. One was down, and as they watched a Bat dipped in and sank its fangs into the back of a small boy's neck, prompting screams and flailing. Latched on, the bat was too difficult a target for Fires, but several towards the other two bats made them disappear into the night. A girl tore free the bat attached to the other's neck and threw it at the ground, stamping on impact. Her foot crushed the monster, but its teeth tore through her light slipper, prompting a soft noise of pain.

Thrasymachus couldn't travel at speed carrying someone, so it was a while before the soldiers reached the civilians, by which time the girl −fourteen, fifteen, or thereabouts− had ripped open the collar of the prone older man, and was filling a syringe from a hip bag. The collapsed individual bore no visible wounds, and Pheles felt obliged to ask. "What are you doing?"

The girl looked up. "He's diabetic. We didn't get to eat much tonight with what happened. Probably best to get to a hospital, though, just in case." She administered the injection, with slightly disturbing efficiency.

"...There's probably a medical station set up in front of the Presidential Rez by now, but it could be busy. Can you stay with us for a while longer?"

Nod. She stood up, winced, then shook herself. "I can walk. And he should be okay in a few minutes."

Light flared to the west, and briefly visible above the buildings was a fire breathing demon, hammering a molten rock earthwards. It was several blocks away, but the asphalt trembled beneath them.

Zephon looked away first, fighting an involuntary flashback. "Hyne help whoever was under that." In the light from the conflagration, he saw something black and glistening slither into a deeper shadow. "We're being followed." They drew their swords.

Ifrit's helpful lighting suddenly disappeared, but the soldiers had lost their night vision. Reaching to his helmet to switch to infrared, Zephon saw Thrasymachus set down his load, and then backhand the civilian across the face.

"Get up. I'm going to need my hands for this."

"Seems harsh. Police brutality?" One of the other civilians, amused.

"I'm the army, not the police. I don't have to be gentle."

"Don't I know it. I've been to Timber."

A bolt of lightning struck a lamp-post, shattering the bulb.

_Creeps. Only three of us, not even a full squad. This could go either way._ "If we start to go down, head to the presidential Rez. Don't stop, don't detour."

"Is that likely?" Same civ who'd spoken before. None of the soldiers replied.

Creeps were not all that dangerous, generally speaking. They tended to shy away from conflict, unless someone was unlucky enough to get lost in the tunnels they called home. But they were extremely difficult to see in the dark, so targeting would be difficult, and even a Behemoth could fall to enough Cactuar needles.

Another lightning bolt, another lamppost. Zephon's heat vision was having difficulty picking out the monster, it didn't seem to project heat like normal creatures, but he discerned a moving patch of grey, and threw a Fire its way. The spell cut a furrow down his line of vision, forcing him to blink his watering eyes clear. When he opened them, he'd lost the Creeps'location.

"Did I hit it?"

"Don't know, I can barely see. Don't do that again." Pheles.

Another bolt from the blue, aiming for one of the civilians, but Thrasymachus was standing in their centre, and earthed the bolt with his sword. _That's why he's in the middle. Good thinking._

"Look away! Fire!" Pheles' spell carved a path through the darkness, and Zephon reached up to switch back to normal vision −it was just too disorientating otherwise. An animal hiss from the impenetrable shadows, then another earthed thunderbolt. If it closed, the three of them could probably take it, but they'd get hurt.

A Red Bat re-merged from nowhere, bit into the side of Zephon's neck. Shrieking, he tore it free, blood trickling down his neck as he let his palms heat and fried the creature before it could take to the air again. Tottering, he dipped for his standard issue potion and daubed some on his neck.

The soldiers' attention was drawn again by a glowing pink heart (loveheart, not a heart from someone's chest) floating in midair. The glow lit up the alley, and three fire spells streaked towards the now revealed monster.

Thrasymachus suddenly crumpled mid step as whatever that heart was took effect, and the Creeps closed the distance. Pheles stepped to meet it, sword spinning to parry a swipe from one three taloned claw before driving through one of the creature's glittering eyes. Hissing, the Creeps, lunged low, under the soldier's feet as he stepped back, spilling him forward. Rising behind, the Creeps raised claws to punch through Pheles back as he stumbled upright. Lunging, Zephon felt his sword connect and cut the monster's back, but the thing spun and backhanded him away. He took the fall on his shoulder, numbing his arm, and found he couldn't get up, forced to watch helplessly as the Creeps swept towards the exposed citizens...who, one and all, charged, kicking and stamping. The monster had inadvertently unleashed one of the most powerful forces on the planet − the pissed off Galbadian civilian. Faced with such ferocity, the monster fled, slithering away down the street.

Thrustaevis' parting Regen was already healing his injuries, and Zephon levered himself upright, rolling his damaged arm. "That could've gone better."

"Y'think?" Thrasymachus, his voice weak. "What did it hit me with?"

Pheles teeth flashed. "I think it just proposed to you."

"Note to self: avoid glowing pink lovehearts in future."

"Aw, dang. Guess I'd better not send that secret admirer card." The civilian girl. All three soldiers burst out laughing.

"'Oh no! Someone's sent me a death threat! Well, they can't hurt me if I get them first!'"

When they recovered, Pheles glanced around. The diabetic and the bitten boy were sitting up, and looked to be able to walk, if not run. Caretaker girl was limping, but she seemed otherwise okay.

"Gotta say, guys, you three got beaten up by a pretty low level monster. Doesn't fill me with confidence, you know." Suit, the one Thras had carried.

Pheles looked at him. "Think you'd do better on your own?"

"Well, on current showing, yeah. _We _saved _you_ just now."

"Feel free to walk away, sir. We can't stop you."

"I'll stay for now, but you're going to have to do better from now on."

"Easy!" A woman, one of the other civilians. "Be nice. Given what happened, they're going to be nervy tonight. And nobody's badly hurt."

_That doesn't make us feel any better, you know._

Caretaker girl suddenly shrieked, spinning on the last of their charges, a man in mid forties, dressed for running.

"He pinched me!" Diabetic man uncoiled, dipping for a holster under his left arm, and Thrasymachus stepped between the two.

"You two know each other?" Pheles asked.

"No...We were just wandering, and these two said they'd tag along to make a bigger, safer group."

"And you two are?"

"Mercenaries." The Galbadians dropped into guard stances. "Freelancers, not SeeD. We mostly guard convoys."

"How can we know that?"

"You're still alive."

_Point. There's only three of us, we can't watch our surroundings and police our charges at the same time. Gah...we don't have time for this._ "Blind!" The accused staggered, Zephon gestured at the other mercenary.

"Take his hand, it's up to you to make sure we don't leave him behind."

A bestial death cry sounded behind them, and the three Galbadians shifted stance, shivering. Measured footsteps and then, visible, a skeleton, bearing two swords, tatters of a cape and rotting but functional boots.

Like everyone else, Zephon had not bothered to read the undead section of the army's monster handbooks after he found out that all of them could be instantly destroyed by the application of Phoenix feathers. But he'd played cards.

_Forbidden. 6623, undead. _Beside him, Thrasymachus said "Scan!" followed quickly by: "Oh crap."

"What's wrong?"

" 'Undead soldier. Not afraid of death.' ...Has an instant kill attack, guys."

_Like a Tonberry? ...We're dead._

Undead were not usually considered dangerous, as monsters went. They moved slowly, were damaged by healing powers and fire, and rotted away if out in the sun long enough. But just from what he could see, this was different. A polished bone skeleton, not dried flesh that would burn. Boots, cushioning the feet, meaning that it could run without damaging itself with hard jarring impacts. And a fighting stance, not a mindless shamble forward. This undead could _think,_ which made it more dangerous than those monsters with more raw power.

It sauntered forward, jaw working, but made no sound. It had no voice to silence, no eyes to blind, no brain to put to sleep. Zephon was hazy on how his Chef's Knife worked, but he was pretty sure it required an opponent that bled.

Pheles stepped forward. "Anyone got Phoenix Down on them?" No one spoke. "Okay, Zephon, you're with me. Thras, get these people away from here as fast as you can. Mercenaries, feel like lending a hand?"

"We're not armed. Just came for the party."

"Fuck. Okay, here's what we're going to do. Thras, once you get back, grab the nearest officer, tell them what we've got here and where we are. If you can't find one, break a window or knock up some shopkeeper, snatch some Phoenix Down and head out looking for us with as much of an escort as you can convince. Don't come back alone, you'll never make it. Now, time is passing, so move."

Thras saluted. "Good luck. Thank you. You, can you carry your kids?"

"Not both."

"I can walk." Both the aforementioned kids.

"Well, we're going to need to run, so that's not good enough. I need my hands if we get attacked."

Pheles jerked his head, and Zephon walked forwards beside him, towards the skeleton with two swords.

"Think we can take it?" Zephon, as they spread out.

"Not a chance. This thing could have centuries of experience."

Blink "So why'd you stay?"

"I'm not going to leave you to die fighting an unbeatable opponent alone, takes a total bastard to do that."

"...True." Zephon looked up at the skeleton. There was no escape from this. A soldier only had one chance to be the miraculous lone survivor of a squad. If it happened more than once, even the most credulous squad sergeant would become extremely suspicious. Sometimes, you just had to charge that machinegun, and if you ended up biting a bullet, that was just the luck of the draw.

_Probably the second most dangerous monster on the streets tonight, and I stumbled across it. That is messed up. No way out of this._

**Thu-thumb thu-thumb thu-thumb.**

He took a breath. "Alright honey, let's dance."

Pheles looked at him. "I always want to punch anyone who says that."

Zephon spread his hands, blinking his eyes clear. "I have a weakness for the classics."

**Thu-thumb thu-thumb**

"Maybe we should challenge it to a dance-off."

"What did you have in mind? Waltz, hiphop, break dancing?"

The skeleton had stopped advancing, skull cocked slightly to one side.

"Well, it's a monster, so the Moonwalk is clearly best."

They both burst out laughing. "Okay, I'll admit that was good. Was it preplanned?"

**Thu-thumb thu-thumb thu-thumb thu-thumb thu-thumb**

"Afraid not. I didn't factor this into my plans for today."

"...Yeah, me neither."

The skeleton hesitated again, swords coming up into a salute. Then it started to run.


	18. Coward

**Coward**

The Forbidden drove forward, leaping into a pirouette, landing three paces away at a full lunge...that didn't materialise, swords spinning across and around the Galbadian guards. One edge brushed off the side of Zephon's neck before he could twist aside, but the blade was blunted by years of corrosion and general neglect, and didn't leave a cut.

_Oh...fuck._

The undead kept advancing, each sword fending off one soldier. It was hard to tell if this was taxing it...a skeleton didn't sweat, pant or stumble. It didn't have all that much strength, as bone alone didn't weigh as much as armoured living bodies, but every strike was surgical, forcing the Galbadians to attack with blind brute force, trying to crack its forearms or spine. Nor did it have any eyes or internal organs to target.

The Forbidden took a step back. Zephon was halfway through a matching step when he realised the G-Soldiers couldn't possibly have done anything to force a retreat and hesitated, just before the other sword swept down towards where his left foot would have been...Blunt or not, the strike would have broken bones.

The attack did not in fact pass through where his foot would have been...the Forbidden realised the attack wasn't about to work before Zephon, and had already begun another move, while fighting a simultaneous, far more elaborate battle with the other Galbadian. Backstepping, he lost track of the other sword, until it swept in and delivered a numbing strike to his thigh. He'd managed to move, so the attack didn't break his leg, but it still folded under him. The Forbidden took a step forward for a one sworded vertical slash, but Pheles forced the other sword aside and threw his shoulder into the things rib cage, sending the undead three paces backward. Both swords levered Pheles back out to fencing distance, then the Forbidden was back on the attack, focusing wholly on the bigger soldier.

Zephon levered himself upright. If he closed with the skeleton, limping, it'd cut him to pieces. On the other hand, if he left Pheles to fight it alone, he'd never live it down. Thras knew the two of them were taking on the undead together, he couldn't just cut and run. They were already outpacing him.

"Thunder!"

Pheles had thrown himself forward into a double blade lock, so the Forbidden couldn't block the bolt, which impacted on its skull, shaking the undead. Retreating, its jaw worked soundlessly. And Zephon found he couldn't move. He could hear his heartbeat, and breath, but he couldn't externally twitch. The spell had caught him mid-blink, and his eyeballs immediately began to dry out. If he was under the spell for too long, they'd crust over. Nor could he move his pupils, forcing him to stare at a single point, even as the fight moved elsewhere.

_He's driving it back. That's strange. Was I that much of a liability?_

Thirty seconds passed, with Zephon listen to his heartbeat begin to slow. The fight had moved beyond his sight, but grunts and clashing blades reached him...stopping abruptly, after an all too human scream of rage, then pain.

Feet. Measured steps. White, in his peripheral vision, and then the undead stepped directly in front of him, leaning close and dragging one sword across the edge of his neck, under his ear. Pressure gradually increased, until the blunted weapon parted the skin.

_No way out of this. I came across the one monster after SeeD __̶__ No, the most dangerous thing on the streets tonight, and it's playing 'pose the statue'. _

The other sword was dragged across his outer left thigh until it left a superficial wound, and one skeletal finger cracked one of three portholes on his helmet. A section of his vision darkened...

_Oh...my eyes are getting sore now. I don't want to go blind...I won't be able to play cards. _

Another cut, this one across his left forearm. He didn't see it, but apparently one of the things Stop spells didn't affect was pain.

The Forbidden took a step back, skull cocking. Zephon would have blinked had he the capability.

_What?_

**THUTHUTHU**

A cut along the edge of his neck.

_Same spot?_

A couple of steps further back, brief pause, and then the same cut again.

_What? ...Oh, T's Regen is knitting them as they're made. That...would have been useful, in some other situation. I'm still losing blood each time, though...can't last._

Step forward, deeper cut.

_Huh? _

His vision became too blurred at this point to make out detail. Which was why he didn't see the flat of one of the swords striking his visor with enough force to knock his head back.

_Oh, I pissed it off. Totally going to die now._

_!_

A polished bone fist rolled back his sleeve. Five Thunder Spells vanished from his mind.

Having spells snatched by a living mind felt like having a piece of your brain ripped out with a fork. Having spells snatched by an undead mind felt like subsequently having that piece put through a blender. Although none of that was exactly accurate...there was no actual physical pain involved, merely extreme discomfort and nausea. Vomit rose in his throat, but he couldn't open his mouth. Sheer momentum peeled back his upper lip at the gap in his teeth, expelled vomit dripping down his chest plate. And he couldn't even scream.

Something like cotton wool seemed to fill Zephon's throat.

_What? It Silenced me? Why, I can't cast or make noise anyway. Must be just a reinforcement of 'you can't escape.'_

_What is going on?_

_I'm going to die. Really, this time. _

_...Heh, there's a familiar thought. Should be getting used to this by now._

**THUTHUMBTHUTHUMBTHUTHUMB**

_Seriously, why am I not dead? What's going on? WHAT IS HAPPENING?_

A cut to his wrist. Judging from the sting, this one didn't start to heal.

Another cold bone grip. Zephon blinked his eyes clear.

_I can blink! _Ripping his arm free, Zephon bolted, running blind. He crashed headlong into a lamp post, but he'd had his arm protecting his head in anticipation of such and spun still running. But it was impossible to keep going for long while almost blind and engulfed in a coughing fit, and he ended up hitting a _wall _hard enough to rebound. When he finally did blink his eyes clear, the Forbidden was almost within reach.

Several ribs were broken by what looked like a single vertical slash.

_Well well, you got hurt, huh? Phel, never thought you had it in you. _

He leaned forward and vomited ̶ the Forbidden delicately stepped backwards.

In spite of himself, Zephon smiled.

_You're squeamish? Seriously? _

He threw himself into a body slam, not bothering with finesse, flecks of vomit spattering them bothat his sudden surge. A sword intervened, scraping across his chestplate, but he felt already splintered exposed ribs crack, and the Forbidden stumbled. Shoving it aside, Zephon stumbled back in the direction he'd come from ̶ he'd dropped his sword when he came out of the Stop, and he was not about to lose it again. Boots echoed in his wake...leather, not steel soled military. Scooping his sword, he spun to face the oncoming Forbidden.

_Can't you just leave me alone? I'm getting tired of this._

**Thu-thumb Thu thumb. Thu-thumb thu thumb.**

The Forbidden changed its stance, each wrist rising to the opposite shoulder, swords pointing horizontally.

_Looks like it's finished playing. Well, fine. I can't escape and I can't beat it...nothing to lose. Why worry?_ Behind his visor, he felt tears rise, although that could have just been re-moistening his parched eyes.

**Thu thumb. Thu –thumb.**

A potion broke against the back of the Forbidden's skull...it duly broke away to regard a good fifteen Galbadian new arrivals with LCR (Lunar Cry Response, an elite garrison) badges.

"Life."

The Forbidden collapsed in a clatter of bone.

"What a waste of a spell. Are you okay, soldier?"

It took some time before, he even tried to answer.

_I survived...again. There's no excuse for this, I was totally helpless. SeeD, twice...and now a Forbidden._

_Once, lucky. Twice, Coincidence. Three times...no one is this lucky. I...just...don't...die, no matter what happens._

_I'm...immortal? Can that really be true?_

"Hey, talk to me! Are you okay?"

Zephon pointed at his throat, made the handsign for 'Silenced'.

"Esuna."

"No —No, I'm not."

The Captain nodded, stretching. "Can you keep up?"

Zephon considered. His nerves were shattered, he was spattered with his own vomit, and healed cuts ached, but he wasn't actually badly physically hurt. He had no wriggle room after Dollet. And now he had nothing to fear.

"I'll be okay, Ma'am."

"Good. The night's not done."

He trailed the patrol as they moved on around the corner Phel had disappeared through. He looked up as they approached, attended by two medics.

His right arm was missing halfway down the forearm.

"You're alive? You're alive! What the _fuck!_" Eyes raked Zephon. "Not even a scratch, you bastard! I hit my Limit, and hurt it, you know, and then it changed stance and took off my arm with a clean cut. Shame they saved you, you fucking prick. Look at me."

The Captain caught Zephon's shoulder and steered him away.

"Don't take this too hard, he'll calm down."

"Take this hard? I'm not! That was a Forbidden, what could I have done? It's not on me that he was unlucky."

"What?"

"Ma'am, I know when I can blame myself and when I can't. This... This isn't my fault. If it was, I'd say so.."

"And his injury?"

"Doesn't change that."

"You know, you should probably take this a _little_ harder than that. Now come on, I'm attaching you to my squad until we find somewhere to put you. This is going to be a long night."

"What time is it?"

"Ten."

He swallowed a sigh. Berating the heavens would not give the best impression.

000000

By the time they got back to the Presidential concourse, it appeared to be a military camp...Galbadian insignia'd tents laid out in rows, with soldiers circulating with bottled water, portable toilets and military rations. Some people were complaining, but given the complete lack of notice, it wasn't a bad operation. The soldiers were just bringing out a meal when they got there, depositing Pheles at the military medical station before heading out again without the wounded infantryman as an officer shouted over the crowd.

"We're bringing out a food, folks, military field rations so it'll taste like salty cardboard, but you should've thought of that last time you filed tax returns. We've made contact with the bus company; we should be running trips home as the LCRs declare districts clear. I've been told that there's damage to the sewers, so you might not have water at home for tonight, but engineers will get working on that as soon as we can spare the guards. If you like, you can stay until dawn, we'll do our best to take care of you."

The medic at the civilian medical station looked up as Zephon arrived.

"You get hurt?"

He debated various responses, from stoic to melodramatic, because the medic happened to be an extremely beautiful girl. He settled for extending his wrist.

"It's a scratch."

She looked at him.

"No, it really is just a scratch. Was serious when I got it, but I've been Regenned , so they're mostly healed. Rusty sword, so I've been sent here to get tetanused. Did you treat a girl with a bruised face earlier?

She looked down. "This is the civilian medical station. Military injuries are treated inside the gates. There's been a lot of bruises tonight. Friend?"

"I hope so. Given how we parted, though...let's just say this isn't a great night for me. Busy?" He looked past her, saw only three people on the stretchers. One was the diabetic from before, but no one else familiar. Good.

"Mostly scrapes and broken bones, from what I can tell. The really serious injuries go over my head, some shootings an hour ago."

_Shootings. That's not monsters, that's enemy action. SeeD are still fighting._

"Deaths?"

Her face went blank "That's not for me to say."

"Oh, of course. Sorry." Any deaths would be brought inside the Residence quietly by some other gate.

He stepped out of the tent. Relatively few civilians had yet been wounded enough to require a stretcher...well, that was one less worry. Thrustaevis had probably made it home by now. He moved towards the military medical station, and someone stepped into his path.

"You! How dare you waste resources allotted to citizens?"

Zephon blinked. He'd been carrying his helmet since he got back to the concourse, because of the blank spot in his vision, and this meant that the slap stung.

"...What?"

"Most of what's here has gone to the army as it is, and now you steal from what little we have!"

"I'm sorry...who are you?" Her diamond ring had left an indentation on his cheek. Middle aged socialite, he'd guess.

"What?"

"What's your name?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Because you just hit me, Ma'am."

"So you're going to arrest me?"

"No Ma'am. I'm not a policeman, I'm infantry. Which means I am trained to _kill_ people who attack me. If it's not too much trouble, I'd like to know your name beforehand..."

She sneered. "Here? You wouldn't dare."

"One of my patrolmates just had his arm hacked off by a walking skeleton, Ma'am. I'm not in a tolerant mood. Stand back or get hurt."

She threw the bucket in her other hand at him. Urine sloshed.

"Blizzard!"

In midair, the bucket was encased in ice and slammed into the asphalt. Zephon, in a stance with fire dancing on his left hand, took a step back as an officer stepped between them.

_That was quicker casting than my best! _

"Ma'am, we are under no obligation to supply you with any of this, there are plenty of things the army could be doing right now. Try not to annoy anyone, under the circumstances; no one is at their best tonight."

Eyes flicking to Zephon's flaming hand, the unnamed civilian left.

A steel gauntlet cracked across Zephon's jaw, sending him over backwards.

"You do not threaten a civilian in public. Ever. I don't care if you did lose a friend, if this civilian killed your entire family−" Zephon stopped himself from taking a step forward "you do not react. If she sues, you will be picking up the bill. There are ways to really piss someone off by being polite, you know. I suggest learning them. Now get out of my sight and find somewhere uncontroversial to stand, it's still a long time until morning."

Zephon brought a hand to his face. Those gauntlets tended to hurt, but it had been a skilled enough strike not to actually damage him. He glanced down at the helmet under his arm, noticing the inside was now damp with a combination of sweat, tears, blood, probably traces of urine, and flecks of vomit.

_Oh, fuck this, I'm out of here._

Walking away alone was not usually a good idea on nights like this, but he didn't hesitate. He'd already faced death tonight. What more was there to fear?


	19. Survivor

**Survivor**

The streets were quiet. The LCRs in enough numbers, could take on Ruby Dragons. Low level monsters wouldn't impede them much. Zephon himself was another matter, but he was immortal now, and so had nothing to fear.

He'd gotten vaccinated in the military medical station, thrown together with impressive speed, and been released onto the streets. Pheles was not there, his injury too serious to be treated in the field when a hospital was available.

The red bats had dispersed. It was the disorientation from the flooding that had driven them to attack, they would avoid all but the weakest, most injured targets.

The Creeps would be the most dangerous to someone like him. They were impossible to see coming at night, and theoretically, Zephon couldn't shrug off a thunderbolt or a 'declaration of love' (seriously, what kind of attack was that?)

He'd elected to wear his helmet after absconding, despite the unreliable field of vision. Better than losing it and owing the army 30K, or being recognised on his way home. If this went wrong, he'd cement his reputation as an unreliable coward. Fortunately, he hadn't joined the army to make friends.

He was currently walking through the eerily deserted shopping arcade. Windows were broken, but not so many as you'd expect. The problems would come when Creeps scuttled into houses to hide from the dawn, and surprised the inhabitants. But, the army needed permission to enter private property, and so could wash their hands of it, so long as they broadcast a warning.

A shadow. He drew his sword, held it ready to catch lightning.

"Come on. Come and get me."

A lightning bolt hit the lamp post above his head.

"Come ON! I get in trouble for killing civilians." Silence. "Nothing. Shit."

He kept walking, in the centre of the street, as obvious a target as he could make himself, but the shadows were depressingly absent of vicious monsters, and he reached his building unchallenged.

The door to his home was open. He hesitated a moment on the threshold, then stepped inside.

The remains of a Creeps was slowly bleeding onto the carpet, bearing the distinctive marks of slashhooks. Thrustaevis was settled in an armchair, reading a battered issue of 'The Adventures of Marlborogirl.' He knocked on the doorframe, lightly, her head snapping up with one hand sparkling with lightning.

"I thought you couldn't come home."

"I can't, but I was uprooted from my posting, no one will notice for a while. Where's Dad?"

"In his room, trying to dig up his old survival manuals. What do you think these things taste like?"

"Uh...you do know they live in the sewers..."

"They do? What happened, what's going on?"

"I don't know much. SeeD flooded the sewers to cover their escape, drove out all the monsters. There could be bats too, so keep the windows closed for tonight, and keep an eye on your drains. Wasn't there TV broadcasts?"

"Nothing. Something must've chewed the cables...or someone, who knows?"

"Careful!"

"Always."

Marcus thumped out of his room, leaflets in his arms. His slashhooks freshly washed. As generic as a hook was, it was genuinely the most useful prosthetic for catching and holding. His face changed on seeing his son.

"What are you doing here? You're on duty until dawn!"

"I thought—"

"I didn't want you to join the army, son, but since you're in, you're going to do it right! Get out of here!"

"I- I'm sorry, I just—"

"Abandoned your post to check on your family? That's desertion, it's a capital crime."

"It's ugly out there tonight, so—"

"It's the Sorceress' inauguration tonight, of course it's fucking ugly! What did you expect? I spent six years in Centra, and I never broke! What happened to you that was so bad, huh?"

"...My patrolmate lost an arm to a Forbidden. I was uprooted, my last order was to 'stand somewhere uncontroversial'. There's a lot of wriggle room in something like that."

"Don't wriggle, unless it's a clearly insane order. Otherwise no one will trust you, and in my experience, you can count on your officers. The Generals never let you down."

"And if I get ordered to take over the world by Edea tomorrow? Does that qualify as insane enough for you?"

"What?"

"She killed Vinny in public, Dad. Talked about her impending 'reign of terror.'"

Marcus sat down heavily on the couch.

"...That's...not insane."

"What?"

"It's selfish, but if you have the power to achieve it, that's a perfectly rational decision. The Galbadian army plus sorceress power...she could do it. And, if you can, why not? Adel made a damn good fist of it twenty years ago. What exactly is sanity, anyway?"

"The mental state neither I nor anyone I particularly care about is in." Thrustaevis, in a whisper. Father and son were silenced, impressed at being out cynical-ed. The two turned to look at her. She met their stares, hands clenching on the arms of her chair. "And we're about to launch a second Sorceress War. Zephon, I'm sorry you got caught up in this. Given the casualty rates from the last one, you're ...going to have it ... tough."

Zephon, derailed, knelt in front of her and caught her shoulders. "T, listen to me. Tonight I met a Forbidden. It hit me with a Stop spell, I was helpless. But I'm still here. I had no right to survive that, none at all but I did. I went toe to toe with a SeeD before, and walked away. Genuinely, I don't think anything can kill me, not after that. If anything could kill me, I'd be dead already. No one, nowhere, can be this lucky this many times. I'm not going to die. Promise."

Thrustaevis glanced sideways at her father. "Is this what you call PTS?"

Marcus shook himself, no longer shouting. "No. It's just ordinary self delusion. 'I walked through fire, therefore I can do it again. If I was going to die, I would have by now'. I've seen it before. I've also seen men survive five years in Centra, then come home and die of the flu. Soldiers can die for stupid reasons as much as anyone else. Surviving once adds experience, but lucky a few times doesn't mean immortal."

"Say what you like, Dad. Once or twice is lucky, but under the circumstances..."

Marcus blinked rapidly. "I spent six years in Centra, you think I didn't have my fair share of near misses? They happen. You ever meet a Major Biggs?"

"Not face to face. He was demoted after Dollet, sent to D-district to cool off."

"If you ever meet him, ask him about his military career. The man just doesn't die. Same with his adjutant, Wedge. Loire, Kiros, Ward, Delphigo...there're plenty of survivors in the regiments. And there're plenty who die. No way to tell who's who, at least until they retire. No one's immortal. And if you get arrogant, you'll die twice as quick next time."

"That Forbidden had me at its mercy...it had no reason not to strike. Why didn't it, if not my...luck?"

"I don't know. What exactly happened?"

Zephon explained.

"So, your patrolmate damaged it. The only way an Undead can heal itself is by draining lifeforce, which it can't do with a quick kill. I don't know what it was trying, but it seems to need to bleed you, so when the scars knitted, it couldn't finish the ritual."

"Then it seems you saved my life tonight, T."

Thrustaevis looked up. "I did? Not your 'luck'?"

"That too."

"Ok then Zephon." He recoiled slightly at his sister's croak. "If you're so certain you'll come out of this alive, how about if I donate your insurance payment the G-Army's orphans fund?"

Zephon couldn't stop himself from laughing. "No you won't. That's just not _you_, T."

"Wanna bet?" She looked up, teeth bared.

"This won't arise."

"Exactly. How certain are you, really?"

"I won't let you down."

He left again, punching the wall outside their apartment before heading back down the stairs.

Thrustaevis looked at her father.

"I'm going to have to alter my definition, I think."

000000

The night of Edea's inauguration would prove to be a rare triumph for the Galbadian military. Despite the unanticipated scale of their operation, no citizens of the city had been seriously hurt, and less than ten Galbadian soldiers had been killed, all falling to definite enemy action rather than monsters.

Four SeeDs were apprehended, alive, something almost unprecedented in military history. Rinoa had also been arrested, and despite her father's protests, had been sent to D-District with the rest. He had been under suspicion himself, but dozens of witnesses had caught the utter shock in his eyes when he saw Rinoa bound and unconscious like the others. He'd been summoned to a personal council with Edea to account for his actions− not noticing that his daughter was planning an assassination from his own house would be negligence at the least.

What the Galbadian Army did not have was a man with a gun. The weapon used in the attack had been found near the site of the assassination, scoured clean. The assassin had re-armed from some kind of cache and killed at least one Galbadian, and the shooters description had produced no concrete details beyond 'longcoat and hat', which would have long been discarded.

Edea had made known her displeasure, but she hadn't killed anyone. Which was a good sign. She'd make a more benign ruler than Adel, on current evidence.

Things were looking up.

000000

Caraway's park. Two days later. The rest of the night had been quiet, and there had been little to do when Zephon arrived back at the Rez. No one had missed him. When dawn broke, all nonessential military staff had been stood down, to be recalled at a general assembly in a few days time, giving the administrative staff time to assess their resources.

A Captain Elliott had been promoted to Major, in the now-Lieutenant Biggs' former position, which was irrelevant to Zephon as he was no longer under that command structure. A lot of transfer applications were being processed, DCP garrison shedding the extra soldiers that had been attached to it for the parade. Many veterans had taken upon themselves to get as far away from Edea as possible, leaving gaps all across the armed forces to be filled by the less experienced.

He hadn't dared to go back to the barracks after what had happened...Pheles had been well liked, even without Donny already apparently staging ambushes for the sake of a TT card, Hyne knew what he would do at losing a friend's limb.

Not that anyone could hurt him. Not now. He'd walked away from SeeD twice and then a Forbidden, any single encounter of which should've killed him. But it'd be annoying to have to deal with garrison soldiers trying to knife him. Coming away without serious injury again, when another soldier had lost a limb... they had every right to hate him.

He sat back on the park's grass, letting fire dance on his right hand.

"Oh...fuck."

"Something wrong?" Grass had masked the step behind him.

"Matt? Just existence in general."

"Ah. Of course."

Pause.

"How's your sister?"

"...Rattled. She's not leaving the building alone any more. What'd you think of her?"

"Hard to tell, but...Likeable. Entertaining, once she calmed down enough to stop being snarky."

At his tone, Zephon sat up, turning to look at the other soldier.

"Something I should know?"

Matt drew back, and -absurdly- shifted stance. "Fine. I liked her. Would you have any objections to me...?"

"Why would you think that's my call?"

"I know...But you could really make a mess of my TT deck if I pissed you off, so..."

"And _that _would have stopped you?" Zephon valued TT more than most, but there were limits. "I've decided to stop being predatory, anyway. It just causes trouble."

"Of course not, but I thought I'd ask. So..."

"It's not really my decision. Did she say anything to you?"

"Well..."

"Are you carrying magefire scars?"

"...No..."

"Okay then. I can't stop you, but I do have preferences. One, do not wear military uniform for the first couple of dates." Thrustaevis had been jumpy these last few days, and military uniform would not help his cause.

"Yes?" Matt's expression had shifted. He was listening.

"And, two, turn down any transfer into any squad I'm serving in."

Matt jerked. "What? What did I do?"

"On the off chance she likes you, I don't want us both to get hit by the same artillery shell or GF." Or happen to be in the vicinity and get blamed for the event, given his strange streak of unfortunate luck lately.

Silence.

"Okay. I'll see if I can get something not in DCP. I'm gonna need to get to work on that."

Matt disappeared.

_He's actually going to do it? She must've made one hell of an impact. Hope neither of them gets hurt._

"Hey." He turned. "Hi, Tess."

"Where'd Matt go? He didn't even stop to talk to me."

"From what I can tell, he's going to climb through Thrustaevis' window later tonight."

Tess winced. "Sixteen floors? That's just scary."

"I'm joking. But she seemed to make an impression. What did you think? Should I be scared?"

"Scared of what, being outshone in her eyes?"

His palm sparked. "Careful."

"Sorry. Well, they didn't rush into each other's arms or anything, but I didn't see any punches either. Mostly they just played cards until we had to leave. So, you noticed?"

"He wasn't exactly subtle...even without all your, uh, _discreet _hints. TT... Is there anything it can't do?"

He heard the smile. "Solve international territorial disputes?"

"You'd be surprised. There's a rumour that if you melt down the Odin card the right way, one hundred black holes will rip apart the galaxy."

Tess burst out laughing. "The best possible result. Where'd you hear that, _Occult Fan?_ Firstly, how could anyone know, unless it'd been done, and then we wouldn't be talking about it. Secondly, how do you melt paper?"

"The more important cards are cast in bronze to stop people just photocopying them."

She shook herself with a ghost of a smile. "Oh, TT nerds. Gotta love em. And then execute them all before they inadvertently destroy the universe."

"Galaxy."

"Oh, is that all? That's okay then. Ker's not coming...she's been promoted into the paratroopers, so she's in intensive training as to how to work the gear."

"Yeah? Good for her..."

"So...what do we do? I'm not sparring!"

He bared his missing teeth. "Agreed."

"Well, there's always Triple Triad..."

"Huh? I thought you didn't have a deck."

Tess blinked, drew a slim starter deck from a hip pocket. "I got one... It was either that or be expelled from the army due to excessive independent thought."

He couldn't prevent the smile. "Ah, but now you're trying too hard to blend in, which is in itself inherently suspicious." He hesitated, then decided the breach in etiquette was worth it. "May I see?"

"Well, if I'm going to be playing you, is that a good idea?"

"Good, you're thinking like a player. But, sorry, I won't duel you. Either you're playing with a complete starter deck that won't stand up to mine, or you're being even more sneaky than usual, and will wipe me out. Sorry."

Her teeth blossomed. "You don't trust me? I'm hurt."

"What's not to trust? You never played cards as a child. Nothing –_nothing_- can be more suspicious than that."

"Curses! The boss put a lot of work into that cover!"

Zephon burst out laughing. "Someone has devoted a full time deep cover operative to spying on _me?_ That's like spying on bread! No wonder the Timber Resistance never gets anything done."

The Forest Funguars had decided to take advantage of the confusion of the inauguration and bombed a Galbadian statue...the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier at the back of the Central Arch. Galbadia had left a lot of soldiers behind in Centra during the war. The attack achieved absolutely nothing besides annoying the army a great deal, and was later voted the second most pointless terrorist attack in history by a straw poll. (The most pointless award went to the Forest Foxes, who once invaded an empty biscuit factory and held it hostage, apparently in the belief that the Galbadian occupation of Timber would crumble without access to a wealth of convenient affordable snacks. The whole affair had been so hilarious that the army hadn't bothered to kill anyone in reprisal.)

They'd picked the wrong night on this occasion however. SeeDs, confirmed G-soldier killers, had been apprehended, but due to Edea's edict, the army was prohibited from punishing them further. Despite surrendering without battle, the Funguars were currently fighting for their lives in intensive care.

Tess stretched. "I could be government. So could you, come to think of it."

He stood. "Don't even say that, not even to me. Given the...political ...uncertainty..."

"Usurpation, say it. It's not like it hasn't happened before. 'Oh no, Galbadia has been taken over by a new leader who killed his predecessor and promises a reign of terror. ...Just like every other leader we've ever had!'"

"Stop talking, or I will hit you."

She drew back. "We've talked about stuff like this before, and no one stopped me. What's−"

"Sorceress. Do you understand what that means?"

"...Maybe not, but I don't think you can either, it's not like there's many of them around."

"Dad's petrified. That's enough."

"Um...petrified?"

"As in scared."

"Ah. So, in the absence of anything better to do, know anywhere worthwhile to eat around here?"

"What?"

"Politics, swords, and backgrounds are off limits, we need something else to bitch about. You won't play cards, I can't, and you flinch every time we bring up SeeD. Thus, eating. Uncontroversial, but a topic worthy of much discussion."

"I see. I'm not carrying cash, though."

"Aw well. I'd treat you, but I'm not weighed down with gil either. Alas, back to politics."

To her credit, she stepped slightly closer, speaking softly. "That coup was incredible. I mean, having everyone know what you did is one thing, but killing your predecessor in front of the cameras...wow."

"Exactly the reaction she wanted. A 'bring it on' to the entire army. Ballsy, if that can apply to women."

Another slight smile in her voice. "It does, if in a slightly different sense. Language is unfair. I mean, 'bitch' is supposed to mean the female equivalent of 'bastard', but the two have very different associations. Because of all the orphans, questions of parentage aren't really an issue any more so it's outdated...no one's going to be insulted by that."

"Are you sure?"

"No. But it does lack a certain sting nowadays." Comfortable silence for a time.

"So, what _did _you do with yourself without cards? Were you, in, like, in an isolation tank or something?"

She looked at him, then jerked her head downwards, staring blankly at the grass. "I read comics. Ever heard of _The Adventures of Marlborogirl and Cactuarman_? I donated one to Thrustaevis when we stopped, in, just to pass the time while she waited for you to come home."

"Used to watch the cartoons. Used to love how one episode would be Marlborogirl trying to cross-pollinate the Winhill flower fields into defenders of humanity, or fighting Neochu on top of Galbadia's Central Arch...and then the next episode, she'd be trying to comb the tangles out of her hair-tentacles and panicking about her Bad Breath leading up to a school dance." One of the lesser known advantages of a twin sister was that it became socially acceptable to pass time with many alleged 'girlish' pursuits. _Adventures _was a sharply scripted kids show, with two separate strands from the perspective of the male and female protagonists, increasingly tightly interwoven as the seasons progressed. Notable for its surprisingly complicated characters, and dark storylines (Marlborogirl was not heroic out of altruism, but from a desire to redeem herself from her skin secretions poisoning her parents shortly after her birth. Cactuarman's toughened skin was the only thing that could long endure her poisons, but he had problems of his own, his body constantly shedding needles that punched holes in his possessions, particularly the clothes he was wearing at the time) the show had been phenomenally successful Their eventual teamup to defeat the evil Dr. Iodine, who'd managed to play them against each other for five seasons, was among the all time fondest memories of tens of thousands of orphans worldwide.

"The original work is better, believe me. What do you think about this general assembly?"

Zephon lay back down on the grass. "Worst case, a cull. Best, she's just explaining the army's role in her 'reign of terror'."

"A cull." Quiet. "And you're still going?"

He spread his hands. "There's nothing else to do. Sometimes..."

"...You just have to take the punishment and hope. ...I hate assemblies."

"What? Why? All you need to do is stand and listen."

"Clearly, you've never been 5'5'' at the back of an assembly hall."

Zephon glanced down at himself. "You know, I don't think I have... Are you going?"

"...I've been reassigned." Her head rose. _Well, that came from nowhere._

"Where?"

"Classified, sorry. I won't get to meet here anymore, though." _Not a city garrison, then. A lot of juggling going on, Edea doesn't want unoccupied soldiers getting it into their heads to usurp her._

"Good luck." He drew his sword and saluted, pommel to heart, blade pointed vertically. After a moment, he then shook her hand... "Don't do anything stupid. I still owe you a blood sacrifice. Why firstborns, exactly?"

Smile. "'Physical God' was on my list of careers, right between 'astrophysicist' and 'wet girl'. Be seeing you. Don't die." She belatedly returned the salute, then walked away. Zephon stayed still for a few seconds, then left himself.

When he checked the roster the next day, he discovered that he himself had been conscripted into an LCR garrison within Deling City. News of Matt's successful application came an hour later. He'd been reassigned to Galbadia's missile base.


	20. Veteran

**Veteran**

"Well, Dad, I think I might just have found an order insane enough for you..." Zephon collapsed into a chair, leaning his sword against the arm. He'd just come back from the general assembly.

"Oh?" Marcus cast Float on the sword, bringing it over to the rack without leaving his chair. "Don't even tell me... World domination?"

"Strangely enough, no. Where's T?"

"Here." The voice came from the kitchen, together with noises of exertion, and hammering. "The plate cupboard came off the wall. You have any nails?"

"Regrettably, no. Need a hand?"

"No space. Don't mind me."

Zephon stretched back into his chair. "What was I talking about?"

"Insane orders. Common army topic, really takes me back to the old days. Bad assembly?"

"Mostly just housekeeping stuff. You address a Sorceress as 'Madam Sorceress', not 'Ma'am', or 'Supreme Leader to whom our lives are as nothing'. But, there was one general directive...that I can't talk about. It involves searching the entire world for someone. We don't have their family name, and the only description we have is from years ago. So as long as they don't do something really clever, like, say, _not volunteer their name,_ we're set."

Marcus was silent for a time. Then... "Searching... this hunted, wouldn't happen to be called Ellone, would they?"

Zephon didn't twitch, glad of his visor. "Maybe. Maybe not."

"You know I've always had your best interests at heart, right?"

"...Go on."

"Because if the Galbadian army _was_ hunting Ellone on Edea's behalf, and you found yourself in the same room as her, I'd want you to kill her." Hammering noise from the kitchen. "Even if you knew you had no chance of getting away alive." Thud. "Although, with your 'luck'" Zephon could hear the sneer- "That won't arise, will it?"

"Well, as much as I trust you, Dad, I wouldn't follow any order like that without some kind of explanation."

"Adel tore the world apart looking for a little girl called Ellone. Seriously, she would deploy a regiment on a rumour of Ellone's presence, which was something we could exploit tactically several times. Now, we could say Adel was just irrational, but with Edea looking for her too, there has to be some reason for it. And if Ellone's important enough to send armies after, by two separate people, she's dangerous somehow. I don't know what it is she's capable of, but the sorceress needs her for something. And that is not good news."

"Ellone?" Thrustaevis had emerged. "There were three Ellone obituaries in yesterday's paper. One in this building, found hanged in her bathroom." Pause. "Wasn't you, was it?"

Marcus threw up his arm stubs. "Does it look like I can tie knots?"

Thrustaevis looked at Zephon.

"Oh come on! I can't travel back through time!"

She looked away.

"Oh, one more thing..." Zephon drew out a gold disc on a ribbon. "Think this is worth anything?"

"Float!" Marcus got up, examined the disc. "Well well, you went and got yourself a Shield of Odin, huh? Usually awarded for acting beyond what's expected of you under pressure."

Zephon laughed. "I was too stupid to realise I had an option to run."

"You probably didn't. It's actually brass or copper; it's not the kind of thing you get for saving the world or anything. Maybe 5K on the open market, a little more at auction."

"Thrustaevis?"

"You sure you want to get rid of this?"

"It might be worth something to someone. Why not?"

"I'll hold onto it for now, it might look bad to sell it off right away. Zephon?"

"Hmm?"

"Don't get any more medals. Please."

"What was I going to do, turn it down?"

"You know what I meant. Anyway, I got a letter from the city garrison today, too. Someone saw me cast that Regen on you, I got a certificate as a civilian for services rendered to the army, and a coupon for five white magic spells from the army stocks. I'm going to collect it today, come with me?"

"Em...I'd like to, but that's probably not a good idea. I'm not very popular in the garrison right now, being seen with me wouldn't do you any favours. Get Dad to go. Or I could go find Matt..."

"Not popular? What did you do?"

"Complicated-"

"I've time."

"Someone I patrolled with lost an arm. Some people would've preferred it to be me."

"You should do something about that. How many mortal enemies can you even make walking around in circles, anyway?"

"Oh, sorry. I knew I should have stopped him from being disarmed out of my line of vision while I was under the influence of a Stop spell. It isn't my fault this time!"

"So, what are you going to do?"

"Something. Soon."

He left.

000000

So, Galbadian black ops were picking off Ellones. Some of Galbadia's generals were not Edea's pets. Good sign? Bad sign? Hard to tell. Edea had moved her base of operations to Galbadia Garden, marching in the army three regiments before Galbadia Garden could rally. That was probably Tess' secret mission. After that oh so dramatic farewell, she hadn't even gone into combat. What a waste of melodrama.

A clever move, though. All Edea's likely dissenters were used to roaming the corridors of power in the Presidential Rez, moving her HQ to G-Garden would throw them all off balance.

Caution meant that she had some sense of her own vulnerability. That made Edea more dangerous than Adel.

At the assembly, Zephon had decided. He would not be party to any attempt to usurp Edea. It had been one of the most nerve-wracking experiences of his life. A roomful of twitchy soldiers, waiting for the monsters or poison gas that they were sure would open proceedings. Once Edea eventually took to the podium, a single misplaced word would have set them charging at her. But, she'd played it perfectly. Speaking sympathetically about the Galbadian army's trials in the first Sorceress War and praising its military might. She then went on a long spiel about the evils of SeeD. Directing them towards the one enemy the younger generation of G-soldiers hated more than Sorceresses. Masterful, unexpected diplomacy from the woman whose political platform stated her objective as a 'reign of terror'. Even though he could recognise it as a diversion, taking down SeeD was a policy he could respect. Especially since they weren't some faceless target any more. Galbadia Garden had gone down without a fight, which left Balamb, and Trabia. Far flung places that would take a significant logistical input to attack. It'd take time, but it would happen. There was no longer any doubt about the matter, school or not.

SeeD had made a mistake. After an official warning from Galbadia, they'd organised a second assassination of a Galbadian official hard on the heels of the first. Galbadia now _had _to respond, to show they still had teeth. It was just about the only event that could justify a full scale attack on a boarding school in the eyes of the international community. The dormant missile base was now being hastily tuned to operational capacity.

Not that this had any relevance for him. He had a more immediate duty, one that wasn't likely to be fun. He had a wounded colleague to visit, and was unlikely to be received well.

000000

Ordinarily, hospitals did not allow weapons inside. There was an exception for military staff with proper ID, but he did have to bind his sword into his sheath, and wear an Odine bangle if he wanted to go past reception. One of the cheap models...under pressure, he could cast with the bracelet. It would just be extremely painful.

There was a guard on the ward. Not military, a private guard, with a pair of handguns instead of a sword, and the hard eyes of someone who wanted to use them.

Donny was on his feet instantly, chair clattering back with one dipping to his sword. Zephon backed up, hands closed but not quite in fists. He was in that awkward submission pose of the accomplished caster. As a mage who channelled with his hands, an open palm was not a gesture of submission, but readiness to kill. Even Donny probably wasn't stupid enough to kill him in a public ward, so he could afford to take the moral high ground, such as it was.

"Stop!" There was magic in that command. Donny stopped moving as Pheles raised his head. His right hand was resting on the coverlet, swathed in bandages and foreshortened. There was pain in his eyes, but they were perfectly focused and clear.

"Thanks for coming." Pause. "I wasn't expecting you, to tell the truth. Sorry about what happened."

"I'm surprised your guard let me in. Where'd you get Stop?"

Ghost of a smile. "I'm General Roce's nephew. Kept with the army stocks when I was serving. Private guard. He's actually nice, just annoyed that he's stuck with pointless guard duty he's much too overqualified for. What I meant was, why aren't you shadowing your sister?"

"I can't maintain a cordon. I'll just piss her off and tire myself out. If someone does attack, I'll have to content myself with a rampage after the fact. Right now, I'd just draw attention."

"...You're really quite cold, you know that?"

"...If you can't protect, avenge. Basic army tenet."_ Usually massively disproportionately, according to doctrine. So I'll find out if I can take down city blocks..._

"So, any advice for me?"

"What?"

"I didn't have much to do these last few days, so I looked up your file. Zephon _Schwert_. I knew the name sounded familiar. This thing's quite hard to live with. So, how did your Dad manage to hang onto you?"

"This was just after the war, there were thousands of orphans. The social workers didn't have time for anyone who wasn't actually abusing their kids, and even then it had to be pretty extreme to draw attention. You'll get used to one arm after a while, once you lose the ghosts, there's less limitations that you think. You won't be able to tie shoelaces, though."

"Ghosts?"

"You can still feel the hand that's not there, right? That'll fade. So... I was within a fifty foot radius of you when you lost your arm, does that mean we're now nemeses?" Zephon took a step back, hands opening.

"No. I wasn't thinking clearly, just after I got hit. It was a Forbidden. That's why I asked for you to be transferred out of the city garrison, in case some idiot tried to curry favour by knifing you in the back of the neck."

Knife in the back would be repelled by a soldier's body armour, and throat cuts were effective but messy. Back of the neck might not kill, but it'd probably leave him paralysed. It was traditional to kill officers with a frag grenade, which was why they were no longer issued to foot soldiers. But people that just weren't liked would be knifed. The phrasing meant Pheles was serious.

During the war, that had been easy to get away with, but not so much now.

As far as he knew.

_If it worked. I don't seem to die, no matter what happens to me, but I always__**, always**__ get hurt. Immortality, not invulnerability. A neck snap might work. And then... No. It'll kill T to have to take care of two of us._

"You don't think you got into an elite garrison on skill, did you? Hate to break it to you, but that takes years, with more qualifications that just getting the shit kicked out of you a couple of times."

"..."

"Are you okay? You can't really have thought you were that good..."

"No...but...I...Look, is there anything else you want to say?"

"You came to see me. I'm just letting you know that I'm not trying to get revenge, and I won't condone anyone who does. Clear?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

000000

_**Caraway's park...**_

_What...am I going to do? I am lucky. That's indisputable. Two brushes with SeeD, and a Forbidden! I am not skilled enough to have survived any one of these. Indisputable. I'm slightly more magically inclined than the average soldier, but that's not talent, that's just because Dad's been drilling me for years. _

_Lucky? Or actually immortal? Does it even matter? _

One hand rose to his now crookedly hanging jaw.

'_Immortal' isn't 'invulnerable'. There's quite a lot of room to manoeuvre in that._

_Blindness?_

_Wheelchair?_

_Total Paralysis?_

_I should probably not get too arrogant. But..._

There was something that no one told you about fighting to kill, that no veterans talked about, that no one wanted to teach, that no one wanted to even admit they felt. War stories had to be prised out of Marcus, and when they were he always talked about how miserable his six years in Centra had been. But sometimes, Zephon could see in his eyes, the knowledge of something he would never voice.

Fighting against an invulnerable foe, listening to your heart pounding in your ears and knowing that you were about to die, with only plate steel and your own wits holding off the inevitable moment...the thing about that was...

It was fun.

Now, he had of course been terrified at all those moments, but there was no buzz quite like knowing that it was time to kill or die. And fighting SeeDs, where your death wasn't a possibility but a borderline certainty, that feeling was indescribable. You stopped caring about the piss on your thighs and blood on your face, and, with nothing to lose, not even hope, you just let yourself feel the moment, that instant that could very well be all the time you had left. There was no feeling –_no _feeling, not love, not hate, not pain, not fear– that could equal that for sheer intensity.

He'd had the privilege of experiencing that twice already in his short military career (he was just coming to the end of his fifth month in service, three of those basic training). The only way he could plausibly recapture it at this point would be to go head to head with SeeD again. And even then, he wasn't sure he'd be able to believe that he was in real danger.

Leaving aside his luck for the moment, this course of action had the notable downside of being likely to result in his premature, brutal murder, which would probably upset his family, but he'd come to another decision in the last couple of days. Edea had taken over the Galbadian army, and there were quite a few signs pointing towards the beginnings of a new sorceress war. Trying to stay alive in times like these was almost futile without any kind of connections or influence. He'd managed to find a high level undead monster on a civilian crowd control mission, there simply didn't seem to be any way to avoid trouble where he was concerned.

And ultimately, he couldn't let his family's feelings dictate everything he did. His life was his to use for anything he wanted... including spending it, if he chose to.

And there was something else...

When he and his father had been asked if they'd killed Ellone, Thrustaevis had reacted.

Neither of them had said _'I'd never do that.'_


	21. Remnant

**Remnant**

"So...Did you ever think when we moved in together life would be more interesting?"

Zephon shrugged, tacked up a poster. "Not really. I'm fine with dull..." _for now. _"Ow!" He glanced at his bleeding thumb. "These things are sharp!"

"Aw, poor you...injured in the line of duty...I think I'll nominate you for a Crimson Moon."

"Aw, come on, if I didn't get one when my head was broken open, I doubt I'll get one now."

"What exactly happened?"

"Fight over a card game one evening after the battle."

Pause. "You twat."

"...Yeah, I know. Not my best moment."

The LCR garrison's brief was to deal with monster outbreaks within the city limits. Aside from the sewer breakout, there had never been any serious outbreaks within DC in the last thirty years or so, leaving twenty thousand well equipped soldiers with nothing much to do. Zephon had been drafted in as a temporary observer –he didn't get to wear the elite uniform, just a badge denoting his status. In accordance with military tradition, one of the people who'd trained with him had tagged along.

Nathan had trained with Zephon almost from the beginning, a decent swordfighter who liked his food and had the pale skin and long limbs of someone with Esthari blood. He was so sensitive about it that even the drill sergeants, expressly employed to exploit psychological weaknesses, had practiced discretion. Being the grunts, they were putting up posters to front the "A T-Rexaur is for centuries, not just for VDC-Day" campaign, before reporting to the LCR garrison to get acquainted with their new posting.

Most of what the LCRs _did _do involved smuggling, the black market in T-Rexaur hatchlings their only major headache. There was no denying that when the hatchlings were the size of cats, they were simply adorable, and they were more loyal than even dogs, but they weren't quite so cute when they were ten feet tall and taking lumps out of furniture and houseguests. It was far from a laughing matter for the LCRs, as a rogue teenage T-Rex on the rampage could cause quite a few deaths before the garrison brought it down.

While poster duty was not onerous, the fact that it was pouring rain on this particular day made it thankless work for the least important people. Thus, what better use for temporary observers? They moved on to the next poster booth, rain sheeting off their armour, mostly repelled by the raingear that came with their uniforms. After a time , Nathan looked back.

"So, Zephon...What happened to Trev?"

"...He's dead."

"You sure?"

"SeeD never take prisoners, and if he escaped he'd have resurfaced by now."

"So that makes five..."

"Five?"

"Sophie was in the staging point in Dollet when SeeD hit it, Sandy got sniped on the roofs, and Galind was really unlucky, he was on patrol in Timber when he walked into more SeeDs outside a bar."

"What the hell was he doing in Timber?" Patrolling Timber's streets was one of the most demanding things a Galbadian soldier could be asked to do in peacetime. It was never asked of soldiers fresh from training.

"Mix up with the books. Looks like we're an unlucky group of people, huh?"

"That's four."

"Early... I mean, Mandar... Um... Well, it looks like he hated that nickname more than we thought."

Mandar 'Early' Wykes had been a phenomenally nice guy, but he'd made one mistake early in training. Asked at a training exercise if he was ready, he'd replied 'I was born ready.' The sergeants had pounced on that, and he'd become 'Early', spending the rest of basic being mocked for having peaked too soon, by both the officers and his fellow trainees. He'd always appeared to take it remarkably well, and there was nothing unusual in that kind of banter, but...

"Fuck."

"Yeah. Just you, me, and Michelle left. I suppose the trainees always take the worst hits."

Poster route completed, they returned to their station, any conversation killed.

Zephon punched in his passcode at the main gates, as the intercom crackled into life. The LCR stations were the most secure buildings in the city. It was mostly an idle posting, but if the alarms sounded, the garrison had to be on the streets ready to seal the city in thirty eight seconds.

"Who is it?"

"Zephon Schwert and Nathan Taish, returning from postering."

"Password?"

"Sorceress saved by surprise scissors."

"Intruder alert! Intruder alert!"

The soldiers stood very still. Several heartbeats passed. Then:

"Aw, I'm just messing with you." The electronic lock clicked open. "Welcome home."

Their new CO was there to greet them as they entered the barracks, clicking open the cages and gates as they advanced through the various security webs. This garrison was expected to hold against a Lunar Cry, and was probably even more fortified than the Presidential Rez.

"Anything eventful on patrol, folks?"

"Not really."

"Yeah? Glad to hear it. Always remember, glowing eyes don't make a monster. If you kill someone's pet cat, people tend to get more upset than if you beat up a homeless guy. So the lesson is, vent your frustrations on the homeless!"

Neither soldier smiled.

"So, you got here. But can you fight?"

The two looked at each other, shrugged. The officer stood back, took a stance. "Hit me."

Neither obliged.

"I'm serious. Give me your best skullrattlers."

Silence, Zephon internally thanking one of Marcus' less-reluctantly-given-than-he-pretended pieces of advice.

"No? You're refusing a direct order? That's a courtmartial offence!"

Nathan glanced up. "Striking an officer is a worse one."

Silence. Then she smiled. "Good."

"Out of curiousity, how many people fall for that?"

"About three in five. So, now I know you can think. But I still need to know what you're capable of in battle."

That was when they were struck in the back of the head. Zephon rolled up into a crouch with his palms ignited, to find the two LCR soldiers behind them stepping back.

"Good. Stand down. Boys, no one should be able to sneak up on you in the rain. Water on metal sounds completely different from water on cloth, you should have heard them coming."

"And what was the point of that?" Nate asked, straightening.

"Well, your friend here's first instinct was magic, casting with his hands instead of his sword, by which I can conclude he was mentored by an Esthar War Vet, while you're using the battle training taught in state orphanages. And, you're both capable of taking at least one hit and getting up. Acceptable. Come on in."

The two trainees advanced, looked around. The average city garrison was fairly functional in its facilities, dorms, sparring rooms, possibly a card table or two.

Not so for the idle LCRs. Just from what they could see, the place had a fully equipped gym, library, and casino, including little holograms at the TT tables that attacked each other. If there was a Cry, citizens would try to seek refuge inside. In the meantime, the garrison were free to use what they liked.

The officer snapped her fingers. The index finger of her right hand was missing.

"I know, different from what you were expecting. Don't let the decadence fool you, if you're going to stay here, you will need to train. I'm your immediate superior, Captain Ceres Meaks. Everyone calls me 'Dainty', though. This is a less formal garrison than you may be used to."

The temporary LCRs looked at her. Dainty was easily 6'5'', with wrestler shoulders, and moved lightly even in the bulky officer armour.

"Do you have a relative in the DCP garrison, Ma'am?" Zephon.

"Cousin. Know him?"

"We met once."

"Anyway, make the most of your opportunities, while you're here. We've got some of the best soldiers in the entire army, so talk to them if you have any questions. It's a good opportunity to pick up new skills."

She paused.

"But, you're the junior members of this garrison, which means you will be doing the true grunt work, the most horrible duty this garrison has to offer...and, lucky me, I get dragged along. This isn't going to be fun."

000000

"So, children, whatever you ask from your parents, do not mention T-Rexaur eggs, or the army will come and lock you all up. You'll get your neighbours killed!"

Nathan leaned across. "First thing they're going to do is go home and ask for those eggs."

Zephon nodded, but stayed at attention, for fear of the damage indiscipline might cause to fragile young minds. The two twitched as their immediate superior signalled disapproval of their chatter. When the children filed out, one of them looked up at the two soldiers flanking the entrance to the auditorium.

"Ever killed anyone?"

Zephon glanced down at the speaker.

"...No."

"You can't be much of a soldier, then."

"...I'm not."

Nathan took a step. "Soldier and killer aren't the same thing. You want to learn how to kill people, join SeeD."

"Hey, no bullying my soldiers!" Ceres. Giggles from the teachers.

"Yeah, if you piss this guy off, he can really make a mess of your TT deck."

On cue, Zephon did his flourish-card draw, snapping his arm out. The kids, of course, took at as a challenge. He advanced toward the card tables, in his mind balancing the likelihood of Dainty breaking his jaw if she thought he was grifting nine year olds between the chance of gaining some good cards from inexperienced victims.

Fortunately, that was when the windows blew out.

"Down! Don't dive, crouch, or you'll just get cut!" Dainty roared over the melee as two swords rasped from their sheaths. The Timber Resistance had been stirring more than usual lately, but even they would hesitate before bombing a _school..._

A couple of kids were down from flying glass, and the five other LCRs flanking the gate were fairly quick to arrive. Resheathing his sword as they were tended to, Zephon joined Ceres at the gates. She was watching a plume of smoke on the horizon.

"What..."

"From that direction...It's the missile base."

"I thought the city was far enough not to take damage from launches..."

"Launches, yes. But not the self destruct... DC's expanded a bit since the end of the war.

"SeeD..."

_Matt..._

* * *

**_Please review, compliments not compulsory._**


	22. Stranger

**Stranger**

Nate shrieked in triumph as the ball streaked past Zephon's last despairing lunge, scoreboard lighting up with confirmation of his victory. Tennis, table hockey, snooker, paintball, exercise bikes… The LCR base was very well stocked. It had to be, or else the garrison would sit and play cards until their muscles atrophied. Zephon's deck had expanded since he'd arrived, but he wasn't playing as much as he used to. The standard in the garrison was high enough for him to be wary, and if he managed to annoy someone else into taking back their card by the sword, they were all far too skilled for him to have any hope of fighting back. Only laziness kept his deck from decimation so far, that and a desire not to be seen bullying the new blood.

Moving in past card tables lined with green felt, Zephon gave a cursory glance over at the noticeboard. Advertisements for sword sharpening, soldiers auctioning off their spare Magic, a sign up sheet for the inter-regimental cup in TT (the entry fee was far beyond his means), and a map of the city with pins marking any recent monster sightings. Extermination crews had driven the sewer monsters into the deepest corners of the labyrinth for engineers to repair it, and the system was finally back up to standard.

Sliding into a chair in the library section of the barracks, Zephon picked up an old issue of Timber Maniacs. And dropped it. Everything after the contents page was blank.

"What the hell is this?"

Nate glanced across from the seat opposite.

"It appears to be an old trick issue of Timber Maniacs."

"Trick issue?"

"A lot of the contributors were on the run, back in the day. Whenever a few of them were in hiding and couldn't submit their work, the editor would publish a blank issue so people would know the mag was still running."

Zephon looked at him. Nate shrugged. "What, you never paid attention to history?"

He hadn't, beyond the military stories. "Should we have it on this base?"

"A blank magazine? Dangerous contraband, no doubt. Anything else worth reading?"

"Probably. Don't know where to find it, though. My shift's done, I think I'll head out."

Nate waved. "Talk to you later."

Zephon signed out. They finished at the same time, but he'd asked Nate to hang back a while today. They'd meet before long.

There was an odd taste in the air, walking home. No one could have missed the smoking crater where the missile base had been. Now they were waiting to see what would happen next. Where the next axe would fall. Balamb, or DC.

That day, Zephon hadn't got to enquire into events further. He'd used too much of his breathing space already. Back at the barracks after the school run, he'd signed out as soon as he could, but couldn't get through the military cordon around the blast site. The LCRs weren't involved with the rescue efforts at the base, because it didn't involve monsters within the city limits. All he could find out was that the base had been alerted to the activation of the self-destruct, and virtually everyone had gotten out. But, then, the Galbadian press wouldn't be inclined to broadcast a true disaster. Bereft of news, he took to hanging around Caraway's park in the evenings. On the third day, Ker was there in her shiny new Paratrooper uniform. She had some news, but her main contribution was a single sharp insight.

"This is the last straw. Two assassinations, and now destruction of a base on our territory. We've shown as much tolerance as we could, we now have justification to hit back with real force."

He'd looked at her. "Think they survived the missiles?"

Shrug. "SeeDs don't die easily."

"Have you heard something?"

"I couldn't tell you if I had."

"Sorry. What about the base?"

"That, I know about. I'm a para now, rapid response. We got there first. Most of the garrison got out – SeeD tried subtlety for once. The base commander must've found out, because they got a fight going."

"In the control room?"

"The garrison expanded lately, because the idle base needed work to be brought up to operational function. It wasn't possible to check every auxiliary soldier. Matt wasn't high ranked enough to be in the control room, so unless he was unlucky..."

"If he was fine, he'd be here today."

"Yeah… there's that."

"Keep talking. What else?"

"Well, we fired on Garden. At least the SeeDs didn't get away clean. And the Ironclad was-"

"Ironclad?"

"BGH251F2."

_5758,Galbadian Military Machine known for its defensive capabilities. Level 7 Card._

"Oh, right. What about it?"

"It lodged itself against the gate, sealed in the SeeDs. Looks like they didn't get out –but neither did some of ours."

"Anything else?"

"Well, there was one rumour..."

"Hmm?"

"SeeD messed with the error ratio on the missiles. Up to max."

So...instead of obliterating Garden, they might end up randomly blasting the entire Island. If an ICBM hit Balamb Town, Galbadia's political credibility would be completely destroyed. Dollet and Trabia would leap to Balamb's defence. They wouldn't start a war, because neither had the military strength to take on Galbadia toe to toe, but suddenly all sorts of little inconveniences would manifest themselves. Both an attack and defence...There was no denying, SeeD were good at what they did.

"Clever."

"There's one more thing... We don't need a missile base anymore, so the garrison is being sent somewhere."

" ... Ellone."

"Good guess. A couple of squads and an Ironclad are going to FH."

Zephon had been forced to revise his prior thoughts. Bombing Balamb Island would do far less damage to Galbadia's rep than attacking a pacifist community...with artillery, no less. Galbadian expats would have a rough time worldwide.

"I wonder if we can plead sorceress mind control?"

Ker had stretched. "Nope. 'Under the influence of a sorceress' is treated the same way as 'under the influence of a drug'. A mitigating circumstance, but not a defense. If you can think and act of your own volition, you're responsible for your actions. The only way it matters is if the Sorceress is actually in your head moving your limbs for you. And that's pretty hard to prove."

"…"

"A lot of people tried that in war crimes tribunals. The judges took a dim view. Jahnsen's been sent. He'll probably burn the town to the ground."

"How do you know all this?"

She'd shrugged. "My new CO likes me."

"How'd you get finished training so fast?"

"I've already done it, so this was just a refresher." She'd plucked at her sleeve. "I've always liked this uniform."

"Are you okay?"

" Fine. Spar?"

"No thanks. You'd cut me in half, and we've no referee."

"Anyone can beat anyone on any given day. You survived SeeD, you should know that better than anyone."

"That was blind luck."

"And? Against someone who can summon, skill is irrelevant. I'd prefer to be lucky."

"Well, if we fight SeeD, I'll find out just how far mine stretches. It's kept me alive in ridiculous situations so far..."

"Heh... Good luck, then. If i hear anything else, I'll stop by here some evening at sevenish."

"Thanks. Honestly."

She didn't hear anything else, but was there for much of the next few days anyway, genuinely seeming to have nothing better to do. Unfortunately, they didn't have a lot to say to each other. Military etiquette disapproved of enquiring about someone's past uninvited –far too many people had painful war memories. Their only known common ground was swordwork, which somewhat lost its appeal after she stop-thrust his _back _foot at full stretch while still keeping up enough of a guard that he failed to land a strike of his own.

Which was why today, he was bringing along Nate and Thrustaevis, the latter primarily to get her used to non aggressive military uniforms again. Ker agreed to bring along a few people she knew as well. Maybe there'd be a few bridges built. He didn't want to lose touch with the only surviving member of his first squad.

After picking up Thrustaevis at home, he spent the walk back to Caraway's drilling her on how to talk to the military. It was mostly the same as talking to anyone else, with three caveats.

1. Sword/Sheath related double entendres were best avoided. Anything a civilian could come up with offhand would have already been heard dozens of times by all army personnel.

2. There was no such thing as 'The Dance of Death'. Sparring could look like a dance sometimes, but fighting to kill did not. Ever. Zephon regretted to admit slipping once, although in his defence, he'd intended it ironically and believed he was about to die at the time. Even so, he'd still almost got his nose broken.

3. Anyone with any contact with the army had to bear in mind that military staff had a dark sense of humour. But anyone who mocked the people who had died fighting Esthar put their life at risk. A lot of the current generation of the army came from military families, many of whom were orphans due to the war.

"Well, there goes the icebreaker about Dad's dance of death with Adel ending with him sticking a sword in her," reflected Thrustaevis sadly.

Zephon would most likely have laughed at that a few weeks ago. Comment or not, when they moved into the park that first time, his sister's head was up, hands splayed at her sides.

Ker was lying on the grass, arms folded behind her head, sheathed sword next to her. Two other paras were down by the pond, one throwing shards of ice into the air for the other to try to shoot down with fire, at a low enough angle that it couldn't be mistaken for a distress call. Ker waved, gestured her associates back to her as Zephon and Thrustaevis approached.

"Zephon and… Thrustaevis, right? Meet Kate and Mallikan. Two old friends I trained with. Didn't you bring anyone else?"

"Nate's late. I don't know why, he should be here soon."

Mallikan stepped forward, extending a hand. "Hey. Campaigns?"

"DDT, DEF, DCP, LCR. Coming up to six months in service, counting training. You?"

"Huh… you've been busy. DCTD, GPTU. Third year of service. Same with her." Mallik jerked a thumb at Kate. "Desert trained, huh? So, you've been taught survival?"

"A bit. Wouldn't want to trust to it."

"Yeah, understandable." Mallik turned to Thrustaevis. "And what garrison are you with?"

Thrustaevis let flames dance on her palm for a heartbeat. "I start fires."

"Sapper, huh? You don't have the build…"

"She's his twin." Ker said, sitting up. "And a civilian, as far as I know, so be on your best behaviour, ok?"

"Oh! Sorry, Ma'am."

"It's fine."

"This is Kate. She's my–"

"Finish that sentence and I will no longer hold back my urge to kill you." Kate, face bland.

Mallik sighed. "I hate not finishing my sentences, it'd like abandoning a friend in need." Zephon's fingers twitched.

Ker made a handsign. Since his first failure in Dollet, Zephon had drastically improved his knowledge of military handsigns, but this one he didn't recognise. Suppressing his own urge to attack, he allowed Mal to continue speaking.

"…Anyway, um, it's not healthy to suppress your urges."

"That's true." Kate, teeth flashing. The two drew their swords and squared off. Ker sighed.

"You're _still_ doing this? Seriously, get a room somewhere. Fourteen years into a relationship, it's time to move beyond coy glances."

"What makes you think we haven't?" Kate, grinning.

"I can see it in your eyes." Ker said, to the two masked soldiers. Mouths opened, beginning questions, as Ker turned back to the twins. "They're usually nice people, I swear. Just a tad frustrated. I booked them a room once, and they played _cards_ until morning." She turned her head. "Sit _down!_ You can't spar in a public park without a referee, and I'm not volunteering."

Mallik looked at Thrustaevis. "Feel like reffing a spar, huh?"

"What? I'm not in the army, I can't referee a fight!"

"That doesn't matter. All you have to do is look interested and shout 'Strike', whenever there's a hit. We both know the rules, the ref's just so somebody walking by doesn't think 'Oh, God, it's a civil war. Erica, go home and take the kids to your mother's, I'll join you as soon as I can. There's a shotgun in the third drawer of the desk on the second floor, if anyone but me knocks, use it.'"

"That was creative." Kate, sheathing her sword.

"It's a gift. So, um, Thrustaevis… Can you live with a murder on your conscience? Interesting name, by the way."

"Yeah, some Thrustaevi flew past the window at the wrong moment. Laziest thing Dad's ever done, apart from naming Zephon after a boss character in a video game."

Ker turned to Zephon.

"Really?"

Zephon looked down. "There were… mitigating circumstances."

"Which you never explained." Nate, from behind him. "So… does this mean I'm the only person in the entire army that doesn't have a mysterious past?"

"Seems so." Thrustaevis. "No surprise, most of the army are war orphans. While we're talking mystery, Kersan, why did you train as a para but serve in the infantry?"

Kate's head turned towards Ker, who rolled her shoulders and said "Love."

"Dollet?" Zephon.

Nod.

"You never said…"

"Why should I have? I worked in a veteran's bar once. I used to hate those conversations. 'I lost three of my squad in the battle of Esker Ridge.' 'Oh yeah? Well _I_ lost five in that battle, and _I _went blind!'"

Zephon exchanged glances with his sister. They'd heard some of Marcus' conversations with his surviving friends.

" It happens. I lost the rest of your squad too, Zephon. I wasn't trying for sympathy when I told you that before. I just wanted to make clear that it was a bad idea to eat yourself over your friend. Sorry, I… can't remember his name. Looks like I didn't do it right, I think you're still bleeding. People die. I can guess what happened, and it's okay. It's what I'd have done."

Zephon stood very still, as Thrustaevis turned to look at him. Ker had guessed well, but her comment was vague enough that she could just be fishing. At worst, she thought he'd broken and bolted. But Zephon had not abandoned Trevor. He'd killed him himself. And if that ever got out… "I don't know what you mean."

"Alright."

A moment of silence.

"Anyway, Nate, the paras are Mallikan, Kate, and Kersan. First two are new to me, served with Ker in Dollet. This is my sister, Thrustaevis. Try to be nice. You have the reputation of the Galbadian military on your shoulders."

Nate immediately snapped a formal salute. "Honour to meet you, Ma'am. I'm sorry I'm not mysterious."

Mallik looked at him. "Um… Zephon, right? Want to spar?" He didn't, really, but stood anyway. If nothing else, he'd get a look at what an elite was capable of. And all that was at risk was pride, which wasn't worth losing sleep over.

After a moment, Ker rose. "Kate, give Zephon your sword. I couldn't ask anyone to fight with that curtain rail he's carrying."

The weight felt good in his hand after so long carrying a cheap knockoff. He looked at Ker.

"Rules?"

"No gouging, no biting, no striking with intent to kill. Beyond that, whatever you like. I'll be watching. Ready?"

They stood, faced each other on the grass. _I shouldn't have brought Thrustaevis today_

A brief battle ensued. Ker was a better fighter than either of them, but she fought from boredom, not with any particular desire to win. Zephon threw in a few tricks to even things out, the kind that had made a difference in training tests. Blizzard spells crashed into the surface of the pond to sweep Mallik off his feet with walls of water, scattering slippery shards of ice, and then blasting some with fire to create steam to hide in. But he was fighting a para. Mallik had tricks of his own, casting iceballs behind Zephon and then charging so he tripped over them trying to retreat, casting Thunder on his own sword to make it dazzlingly bright. Finally, the para cast Float and ran over the surface of the pond to its centre, well out of reach of any blade.

"Poser!" from Kate. Several giggles.

Slogging through pond mud in military armour would be tiring and dangerous, so Zephon was reduced to sniping from the banks. He couldn't land a decent hit, and after he decided to stop wasting his stock, Mal got bored and charged to batter him into submission. If not for the showboating, he probably could have ended it quicker than he did.

"Fight of my life," Zephon was forced to admit, accepting the hand helping him up. "Even SeeDs don't do that."

"Oh, they can do it." Ker. "They just don't need to be subtle when they can level a building instead.

Mal grinned . "You can take a beating, I'll give you that."

"An acquired skill. I haven't won a single fight since I joined the army." Although his pain threshold was much improved, at least.

"Seriously? What about the entrance test?"

Nate looked up. "He cut a deal with his best friend, who happened to be the best toe to toe fighter we had, and they ganged up on the rest of us. Trev did most of the fighting, after which he was backstabbed."

"Let's not get too deep into the mysterious pasts." Ker. "We have work to do."

"What?"

Her gesture took in the grass lawn, torn and charred, with sharp shards of ice hiding amidst the grass. "What do you think?"

Cleaning up took four hours, after which they were tired and hungry enough to follow Nate's suggestion of grabbing something to eat.

000000

Military staff were fairly well paid, nowadays. Zephon was expecting to be taken somewhere with candles and chandeliers, but Nate ended up taking them to a fairly basic diner at the edge of town, somewhere he'd gone to eat long before he'd joined the army. Zephon ordered a muffin and a Cactuar Juice (he'd developed a taste for the drink because it was cheaper than water these days, on account of a baseless but entertaining and therefore widely repeated urban legend about someone accidentally swallowing five needles and slitting his own throat). Nate recommended some spicy fish based dish originating from Balamb, ordering his own. Predictably, the conversation soon swung around to food.

"Bit different than field rations, huh?" This from Mal, as five empty plates sparkled on the table (Nate was still eating).

"The army has a bigger budget than all the rest of the government put together, you'd think they'd put some of it towards nice food once in a while." Nate. More or less universal agreement.

Thrustaevis looked around. "Anyone carrying rations with them?"

Silence. Every soldier was supposed to carry at least two meals, but the ones stationed in DC rarely bothered.

Then Kate saved them. "I don't think she'd like it," jerking a thumb towards the counter. Some of them turned, just as five newcomers trooped in and began arguing over cost and harassing the lone waitress.

"Fine. But even I can tell you why the GI stuff isn't nice. It's expensive enough to feed an army without needing three or four helpings each. I'm guessing they don't taste _bad,_exactly, just taste of nothing much. That way, nobody eats more than is necessary for them to keep existing, which is cheaper and stops the army from getting too fat to fight."

"You should write a book… ' _Military Field Rations and their Socio-Economic Ramifications'._" Nate.

"Maybe I will. Still haven't decided what I'm going to do with myself. Financially the best this to do is probably law or medicine, but…" Behind them, the argument's noise level began to rise.

"Too much study. It'll be ten years before you get any return." Zephon, venturing an opinion he'd voiced before.

"Why go for the obvious option? Try engineering, or brokering slaves." Nate.

"Oil tycoon." Ker.

"Mercenary." Kate.

"_No._" Zephon.

"I genuinely think you should train as a sapper. Then with your demolitions expertise you can rig up a hospital or a school and demand billions in ransoms. Quick, lucrative, and if done right, nobody gets hurt." Mal.

Surprisingly, to Zephon at least, Thrustaevis smiled and said she'd think about it. Was she discovering a latent taste for destruction?

The argument behind them was escalating. DCPers were given basic training in threat recognition and sooner or later that was going to explode. Fortunately, it had nothing to do with them.

Thrustaevis glanced over her shoulder.

"Are any of you going to do something about that?"

"Like what? You wouldn't believe the trouble we can get in for laying hands on citizens." Ker.

"Would we need to? They wouldn't be much trouble." Nate.

"Look again. The one on the left is in a ready stance."

"What, talking to a waitress? How paranoid is that?"

"If anything happens, this place could be wrecked, and we'll have to pay for it."

"I can barely afford this muffin. I am not paying damages." Zephon.

"Isn't there a power of detention?" Mallik.

"That's only active in Timber, and we need to have reasonable grounds for suspecting terrorism to lay before an officer."

"You could intervene, Thrustaevis." Kate. "The laws aren't as strict on civilians."

"On my own? That'd end well."

"Well, if you officially ask for assistance, we can help, except for Zephon. The magistrate would never believe he was impartial."

"Y'know, I didn't think the army were all such lawyers."

"What, you thought we were kept in cages until somebody waved a haunch of meat and said 'Go kill somebody?'" Kate.

"I didn't mean…"

"Easy…" Ker, making another unidentifiable handsign.

Finally, someone threw a punch at the waitress, knocking her back into a wall.

Ker sighed, then stood.

"We need real grounds to lay a finger on a civilian, because we will be punished severely if we tarnish the army's good name. But, I think that we'll tarnish it more by being idle and letting something happen." Three steps away, she looked over her shoulder. "Anyone want something while I'm up?"

"Can you get me another muffin?" Zephon. They _were_ very nice.

Bright smile, nod. Kersan strolled up to the counter. She was not in a combat stance, not even some cleverly disguised spy version, and had left her sword at the table.

They needed _very _good reasons to draw steel on a citizen without being executed. She turned to the waitress regaining her feet first.

"Hi. Can I get another muffin?"

One of the newcomers started forward, but another caught his arm.

"That's a para uniform."

Ker smiled. "Yeah? You know the army?"

"Once upon a time. Served three years with the fifth."

" Hmm… really? Ever meet a Sergeant Carver?"

"I don't think so…you sure he was with us?"

"Thought he was, maybe not. He gave a guest speech when I was in training. Duty, honour, the necessity of avoiding killing sprees, y'know the kind of thing. So who was your drill sarge?"

"He doesn't have to tell you that!"

"Of course not. I'm just here to get a muffin. Hey, Zephon, what kind did you want?"

Zephon glanced at the table. "What was that one I just ate?"

Nate examined the wrapping. There were no crumbs to help with his deduction. "Blueberry, I think. Or maybe Ochu Seed, I wasn't paying attention."

"Pick one." Zephon shouted to Ker.

She laughed. "Typical LCR. You don't do anything if you can avoid it. Anything else, folks?"

Mallik and Kate ordered drinks. So did Thrustaevis, oddly. Normally she didn't overspend at these occasions. Nate needed no prompting. The five newcomers twitched, although the veteran was actually smiling. Ker turned away from the counter.

"What's this about, anyway?"

"Some complicated romantic crap. I didn't bother keeping track. Guys, she can't do a thing, she's not here in any official capacity."

Sigh. "That's true, I'm afraid. All I can do is describe you to the relevant authorities. "

The smile vanished. "So… it's better to leave?"

"That's up to you."

"Come on, folks."

"What? We can't just…" One of them started forward.

"Striking me is a capital crime. And frees me to hit back, too. _With lethal force._"

"That's intimidation. We can report you for that."

"It's stating a fact."

"Fuck, let's get out of here."

"What?"

"What part of elite don't you understand? She can probably kill us all before her friends even get close."

Beside Zephon, Thrustaevis drew back in her chair. The five new customers left. Meanwhile, the victim opened her eyes. Not unconscious, then.

"Are you going to help me?"

"I'm not a field medic, Ma'am. And you're a citizen, I don't have the authority to expend military Magic stocks in your name. I just want to finish our meals in peace."

"Thank you _so_ much."

After a time, Kersan returned to their table with the muffins. "What were we talking about?"

"I think… I'd like to go home. Zephon?"

"Yeah, coming. See you, guys."

Outside, Thrustaevis took a moment to lean against a railing.

"That… that was the scariest thing I have ever seen."

"It was the only thing she could do. We're only allowed to harm citizens when it's vital to maintain public order, like the night of Edea's parade, or responding to a direct attack."

"I know… but… Doesn't anyone ever break the rules?"

"Yes. Thirty years in D-District if they're caught. The government hates seeing the army beat up citizens. It's bad for their image."

"Sorry. I know there's not a whole lot you could've done, but… I just don't like that people are able to… calculate… like that. Is that what the army does to you?"

"I'm… not the best person to ask. When your best friend is bleeding in No Man's Land, you have to be able to assess whether a rescue is worth the risk. But I swear on anything you can think of, if that had been you, I'd have burned the building down if that was what it took to get you safe, no matter what happened to me."

Thrustaevis lifted her eyes to his mask. Zephon took a step back.

"If you'd prefer me to take the next bus, that's okay. Just stay out of the alleys."

"…No. No, it's okay. Come on."

_I shouldn't have brought her today._

It was a silent trip home.

News came through that evening. The expedition to FH, a few squads sent in token obedience to Edea's hopeless search for Ellone, had returned. Balamb Garden was there. Not just SeeDs. Garden. The building. General Jahnsen had quickly concluded that he didn't have the resources to fight SeeD and ordered a withdrawal, but not before taking a few losses. Including one Matthew Baker, confirmed KIA.

* * *

**_Please review, compliments not compulsory._**


	23. Mourner

**Mourner**

Zephon had never attended a funeral before. He'd never known his mother or grandparents, all dead in the war, and nobody very close to him had died until he joined the army. He'd still been injured during the memorial service for the Dollet dead.

Matt had been a war orphan. Ten people attended, and six of them were obliged to be present as honour guard. A representative from the orphanage, Ker, Mir, and Zephon. Tess would have come, he was sure, had she been in the city.

The casket was empty. There was seldom enough left of SeeD's victims to bury, even in a jar. It was a warm, muggy day, and sweat was trickling down his back inside his armour, but he held himself at attention for as long as he could.

Afterwards, the three retreated to the graveyard wall.

"I'll never get used to that…" Mir, in red today,

"Yes you will, Ma'am." Ker.

"…Well, if SeeD don't settle down..."

"They won't. They can't, now. They know we'll be coming."

A sign up sheet for retaliatory action against SeeD was now pinned on the noticeboard in every garrison. When they came up short of names, the rest would be picked at the commander's discretion.

As a soldier with previous experience of SeeD, without any special skills that made him vital to any other station, and too new to the army to have any pull with his commanders, Zephon was a prime candidate for selection. He'd have to rely on his luck to carry him through the engagement. But this wasn't the time for these thoughts.

"Why were we the only ones here? He must've trained with a group."

Mir looked at him. "Military orphans don't like funerals. They're depressing. A lot of the young, single, disposable kids fought in Dollet, and now the survivors are posted somewhere further afield for seasoning."

"Disposable?"

"If you hadn't worked that out by now, get out of the army. The orphans have no next of kin to compensate."

Long silence.

Then: "Well, may we have better luck." Ker.

Murmurs of agreement. They dispersed.

No one felt like hitting the park, so Zephon went home. The bus was almost full, but some veteran remembered what wearing 40lb of armour in summer felt like and gave up her seat, which shortened the journey considerably.

Thrustaevis was for once not active when he got home, sprawled in an armchair, head tilted to watch a fly thrashing in a cobweb near the ceiling. She looked up at his entrance.

"Hi."

"Slow day?"

Thrustaevis shrugged. "The TV imploded."

"What?"

She took a dishcloth off a table, revealing a large square burn mark. "Somebody in government realised it'd be a bad idea to undercut the cable companies. Must've been set with a timer or something."

"I smell magic."

Thrustaevis glanced at him. Once upon a time, her senses had been sharper.

"Can you imagine that being your job? Casting 'Doom' on GI TVs for weeks?"

"There are worse things I can think of. So, should I leave you to your nature show?"

She glanced up again. "It's almost over now. I never know what to do when this happens. Is it better to intervene or not?"

"He's already been dead from the first bite. It's just a matter of time."

"There's that. Actually, now that you're here, you can solve a mystery for me. Do you know why we have Funguar patterned baby socks? I found some behind the-"

"I thought they were cute, okay? That's enough!" Marcus, from the kitchen. At this time of day, he'd be cooking.

"Matching pairs? Really, Dad?"

"I never claimed to have good aesthetic taste. And have you seen those Funguars? All googly eyes and smiles? If either of you ever see a mushroom smiling at you, remember, that's the face of a killer. A friend of mine lost an eye to one of those things once, it melted half his face with a laser beam."

"Ok! Hyne, sorry, Dad."

"I'm surprised they're still in decent shape, to tell the truth. Long time since I got those now. Nearly eighteen years armless."

Pause.

"You know, I never thought I'd live this long."

"Dad!"

"What? It's true. When I first got here, I could just about open the doors."

When they were barely seven, the twins had fitted door handles, which their father could depress with his feet instead of doorknobs, which were much more difficult for an armless man to operate. "Look at you two… You've gotten big… Old enough to kill and die for a cause, nearly old enough to sign contracts and donate blood… where does the time go, huh?"

Zephon glanced across. Thrustaevis shrugged. The sock saga made more sense now. She'd been trying to prick him out of a mood. He took a step forward as Marcus came to the doorway

"Look, Dad, what brought this on?"

Marcus opened the door. "You heard about the sign up sheets?"

"…yes."

"And…"

"I hadn't decided."

"I've been talking to some friends. They said they saw your name on a list. You remember what I told you?"

_Never, ever, volunteer. _But there had been a footnote.

_Unless you're next in line anyway._

"You really hadn't decided?"

"Well…"

_We FINALLY fucking got you. Suck on that, SeeD! See you soon!'_

"I haven't signed up."

"Do it now. If you have to be forced, you won't be able to pick your allotment."

The pause stretched. Then Zephon nodded.

Thrustaevis' eyes flicked from face to mask. "What's going on?"

Zephon turned. "Thrustaevis, I'm going to need your help."

"Why? What are you signing up for?"

"Do you know how many pounds of pressure it takes to tear out a human throat at close quarters?"

"What?"

"There are some things we can't tell you. We just can't. Maybe you can work it out, I don't know. But leave us this."

They waited.

"Oh."

Longer pause. "And you're volunteering… why? Revenge?"

"_Revenge?"_ He was laughing, he realised. It felt like a while since he had. "No? What'd be the point? I'd get steamrolled." Poor choice of words, judging from her face "I'm doing this because it's the right thing to do. I might not have been in the army long, but I know that it's very rare that any soldier can honestly say that." He'd already lost too many friends, someone needed to put an end to things while he still had a few.

"Helping Edea take over the world is the right thing to do?" But her face had firmed. "Alright, what do you need?"

"Magic. Don't worry about offence, the army will take care of that. What I need is enhancements and protection, defensive magic, Green Magic. Haste, Protect, Shell, Reflect, Double, that kind of thing."

"Cure?"

"No, I'd have to surrender it to an officer. Maybe Regen."

"Okay, I'll get it done." She put on her shoes and left. Alone.

"That's interesting."

"Yeah, I should volunteer for suicidal campaigns more often. Dad, you're my offence. Don't bother going for the heavy stuff like Ultima and Flare, that kind of thing will be snapped up by General Caraway's second cousin's sister's daughter in law's goldfish. What I need from you is magic that disables and debilitates… Silence, Blind, Stop, Confuse Berserk, etc. The kind of thing that a Blood Soul uses."

Marcus started to smile. "Blood Souls aren't tough, but they're hard to kill, even for seasoned fighters."

"That's right."

"But I can't help you."

"What?"

"My access is to military stocks. When I served, I always used the hate the kids with special access because their grandmother fought to quell the last Lunar Cry and saved Field Marshal Reese's life. I'm not going to take spells away from somebody else to give them to you. I can give you some stuff I found in monsters, but I'm not looting army supplies."

"Seriously, Dad? _Seriously?"_

Marcus looked away. "I'm sorry."

Zephon took a step towards him, a brief abortive movement. Marcus' stumps rose as he shifted his weight, before Zephon sat down in Thrustaevis' vacated chair. He wasn't going to convince his father otherwise, and venting would help neither of them.

"Okay, I'll figure something out."

"You will. You're smarter than I was when I was fighting."

"Only because you told me about most of the pitfalls."

"I couldn't possibly have covered all of them."

"You did enough."

"I hope so, son. I really do."

Silence stretched. Neither spoke again that night.

000000

The next week passed slowly. He barely saw Thrustaevis' face, she was spending most of her time hunting draw points, pulling favours, blackmailing/guilt-tripping old school friends, and doing whatever else she could think of that might scrounge up another couple of Hastes or Floats, while tried his hand at all sorts of little things around the house he'd never gotten around to. After two false starts, Zephon managed to enter his name on the volunteers list, and then went home to play cards with his father. Mid game, they talked about effective strategies for attacking someone better than you in every respect (Apparently advice was not as unfair as magic. 'Don't fight' was the main conclusion they drew). They talked well into the night over the endless games of TT. On the last day, Zephon tracked his sister down to mention that more magic would no longer make him any more likely to survive, and if he needed to cast any more he was dead anyway. She'd done wonders. It would be such a waste if he was blasted to ash in the first five seconds.

After an argument, they did not cook his favourite dishes on the last evening. Double rations were given to prisoners before a death sentence was carried out. A long three way poker game took up four hours the evening before instead. It ended up lasting almost the whole night.

They both came to the station with him. Thrustaevis must've read something in his face, because she wouldn't look at him until the train, finally arrived.

"Good luck. But don't trust to it."

"Oh, don't worry, I'm not going to charge down someone's throat". He hugged her, then turned to his father.

Marcus looked at him. "Do you still have my knife?"

Zephon tapped his heart. "Of course. Blade's still clean." Then he missed a step. "What, you want it back?"

Sigh. "What do you think I am? I earned that, so it's yours. "

Pause.

"Good luck, son. Be careful."

"Always."

Miranda was waiting inside the door, ticking his name off on a printed list.

"You? Y'know, I never thought you'd be stupid enough to volunteer for something like this."

"I wasn't expecting you to be here either, Ma'am."

"I'm sick of losing people to SeeD. Past time we pushed back. Anyway, welcome aboard Operation Weed. How well can you handle a bike?"

* * *

_**To whoever's still reading this: As you've probably guessed, the Clash of the Gardens will be coming up soon. Being a battle, it's unlikely to be pretty, which means this story's rating might have to go up. Just so you know. Please review. Compliments are not compulsory.**_


	24. Student

**Student**

Zephon had never been part of a composite garrison before, but he knew what to look for. The bright, eager soldiers were transfers from D-District, the ones who didn't care what they were doing so long as they could get away from D-District, the most painfully boring duty the Galbadian army had to offer. D-District soldiers could have to spend anything from six months to two years in the middle of nowhere, and even in the unlikely event of a mass escape, all they had to do was withdraw into secure rooms, release the monsters (electronically) and wait until the escapees reconsidered.

The Timber garrison produced two kinds of soldier. The first were those with that complete unflappability that came from serving in a city with at least one terrorist attack per week. They kept their gear in good condition, asked sharp, pertinent questions about what they were expected to do, and didn't waste time or energy fretting.

The second kind of Timber soldier were the founts of long suppressed rage, denied the chance to lash out in retaliation for so long that they wanted nothing more than something to kill that wouldn't get them in trouble later. They were dangerous people, not ones to approach if you had a choice.

The more well-known kinds of soldier were there too. Those with connections and cushy postings who felt the need to prove themselves, the bright eyed new recruits, the ones who wanted to be anywhere else but through an accident of timing or sheer bad luck ended up here. The cowards, the heroes, the cowardly heroes. And Zephon himself. The only real common thread was that they were mostly young, the ones who'd lost people to SeeD. The older generation of the army were doing everything in their power to stay away from the sorceress without drawing her attention.

Sketches of B-Garden, courtesy of Seifer, were pinned up in every lecture hall, with annotations added by engineers and strategists. There were two points of access for an air assault. The Quad was an open space where an air attack could land, and the main gate was the biggest other entry point, although it had been designed to be defended. The shape of the building meant it couldn't easily be climbed, which left the quad as the probable main thrust of the attack.

Garden was not impregnable, however. There were only a few lifts, and no broad shallow staircases, which meant defenders couldn't quickly get from floor to floor in numbers. The class didn't cover anything beyond Zephon's new unit's specific goals, but there were a few suggestive elements that someone else might have inferred the whole plan from, if they cared enough.

As a volunteer, he'd followed Mir's suggestion and signed on with the RATOM unit. He'd done a little training with bikes, but not really enough to be considered for combat in ordinary circumstances. Fortunately, these were not ordinary circumstances. Even a veteran biker couldn't expect to last long against SeeD. If Zephon crashed in the first five seconds, that was fine as long as he managed to crash into somebody. There'd be only thirty in the first wave, a mix or professional drivers and disposable cannon fodder. Few of either would survive. But…

_First in, first out. First in, best gear._

If he could survive the first clash, he'd have a chance to retreat before the main engagement. In an en masse melee v SeeD, the Galbadians would be devoured. And volunteering for the first clash might quell the blemish on his reputation for being the sole survivor of his squad in Dollet.

It was still unlikely he'd come out of it, but not much more so than the face to face clash with a SeeD on the streets of Dollet, or surviving the encounter with that Forbidden. He'd have to trust to luck, and hope Trev's ghost would feel this would settle his debt.

Most of the lectures were just drilling the soldiers in things Zephon mostly already knew. Avoid direct combat, with junctions, that ten year old girl is stronger, faster, more resilient, and better trained than you. There were a few artist's impressions of people believed to be SeeD officers, and mugshots of the ones imprisoned after the DC parade.

A few comments caused murmurs. "For this engagement, there is no lower age limit on kills. Anyone that's been weaned is a valid target. A child that can summon a GF can kill thirty soldiers in five seconds. Those obviously over thirty years old may be taken captive if you like, although they are your responsibility. The folks at home won't like knowing we kill children, but every single one of those cadets is as dangerous as an X-ATM, and we can't afford to take chances. Not with this."

A few minutes were given to secondary objectives if the first wave managed to break B-Garden's defences, but it was clear that that wasn't really expected. Disabling the main elevator would cripple the defence, and breaching the seal of the training centre would open up a third front within Garden. Seifer had apparently been a member of the disciplinary committee of B-Garden, he knew the secluded spots well. His input would be invaluable. A few more details, and then Zephon's unit left to drill with the bikes.

The advice given was similar to most army training. Avoid attempting stunts, your objective is to stay on the bike as long as possible. It was rare that it was actually necessary for a soldier to try jump a swing bridge. Zephon picked up enough to hold a formation, and move erratically without doing anything so complicated that he was likely to lose control. Against a defence on foot, you didn't have to move that fast to be difficult to hit cleanly. Training drills were run for hours daily over the next few weeks, getting the new recruits up to a minimum standard, along with repeat lectures designed to embed the details into every single soldier's brain.

Aside from the briefings and drills, there wasn't a great deal to do. There was no need for a perimeter guard when based in a giant floating building, and the only guards were on the officer (formerly teacher) quarters, the headmaster's suite, and the kitchen storerooms. The Centrans (a brief historical section had been included in the briefings) had built well. The traditional thing to do when this idle was to take up fishing, but fishing lines hundreds of feet long were not in great supply. So he wandered the building in search of overlooked draw points, and stared out of windows for long periods, his military boots echoing down deserted corridors. With the Centran coastline soon to be visible on the horizon, Tess hunted him down on the balcony overlooking the main hall, watching a group of soldiers dare each other to poke the three headed lizard GF. No one knew where the thing had come from, one morning it had settled in the middle of the hallway and had to be worked around. As GFs went, it wasn't all that hostile unless you stepped on it – a few braver soldiers had even challenged the thing to a game of cards. Mostly they lost, three heads being usually better than one.

By then, Garden was several hundred miles further south than its customary location close to East Academy Station, and barring a very confused family of Thrustaevi that had been nesting near the building's peak, no one had really noticed. No one seemed to know why they were going to Centra instead of Balamb or FH, but winter kits had been issued, suggesting a certain degree of foresight.

"Nostalgic, hey?" said Tess, behind him, as a bell rang.

He turned his head. "I never went to Garden."

"No, I mean the atmosphere. The sounds, the smells… thought I was done with all this kind of thing."

"It's different."

"I know that! Hyne! That'll teach me to speak. So what were you doing up here?"

"Counting."

Zephon wasn't familiar with Garden, but he'd watched at that balcony for three days now. According to the brief they'd all been given, B-Garden had two hundred SeeDs, give or take, and almost a thousand cadets. That many SeeDs would not go down easily, so the Galbadian army would need to strike in force.

"Have you picked up on some ingenious plan I should know about?"

"Dad always said there was no such thing as military genius. Just risky plans. A risky plan that succeeds is genius, a risky plan that fails, is idiocy."

"And military stupidity?"

"That exists. There's usually a reason for it, though. Corruption, sabotage, cracking under pressure, an ordinary mistake. Adel's last push was a huge risk, but she got complete surprise and almost crushed DC, would have except for a freak streak of luck. Stupidity or genius?"

Teeth. "You'd almost think you had some experience to draw on. Do you ever have any original thoughts?"

He looked at her. "In the army?"

"Ah. Wisdom by proxy. Useful, that."

Silence.

"It's good to see you."

Tess smiled. "Thanks. Still alive so far, at least. Anything much happen back in civilisation lately?"

"…Matt's dead."

"I… heard. SeeDs?"

"I just saw the paper, I don't know. Probably. He was in FH, I don't know how else it could have happened."

"How'd Thrustaevis take it?"

"I… don't think I told her."

A chime sounded through the PA system, the one summoning his unit for more lectures.

"That's me. I'm…"

"…late for class? Have fun."

"Be seeing you."

He left her there on the balcony, just as Cerberus' patience snapped, and the crunch of wooden stick being crushed to powder between three sets of jaws followed him down the corridor.

The lecture, when he finally got there, was mostly more of the same, officers effectively shouting "DON'T BE STUPID!" over and over.

Sample quote: "The most common mistake on the battlefield is to think about your opposite number 'What would I do in that situation?' Here's the thing, boys and girls… You won't be fighting yourself, not unless you have an evil twin!" (Zephon bit his collar.) "SeeDs won't think the same way as you. They might decide to charge gunfire instead of taking cover, because with junctions, they just might be able to take it and cut you down. They might…Gah! They might do almost anything, things I can't predict, but if it's a SeeD making the decision, you can be almost certain it's the right one to make. You're just going to have to do the best you can, even when you know it won't be enough.

"The Galbadian army's unofficial motto, as you all _should _know, is 'Make 'em Pay'. Everyone learns that sooner or later, and takes it to heart. But it doesn't mean what everyone thinks it means. It's not about revenge, about punishing someone for what they did to you. In war, revenge is self-indulgent, and cowardly. Horrible things are going to happen. Retribution is a waste of time.

"No, it's about what you do in combat to preserve your life. If someone takes your life, make sure they earn it. If you make a mistake, someone will take the chance you've given them. But if you don't make a mistake, then your opponents have to work hard for your life, and put themselves at risk if they want it. Basically, don't make stupid mistakes. Your priority should always be staying alive as long as possible. Don't fight to kill. Don't fight to die. Fight to _live_."

As they drifted south, more and more of the army took to staring out at the ravaged Centran landscape. The continent had never been adequately mapped since the Lunar Cry had destroyed it seventy years ago. Scavenging and hunting parties were sent out, but ranged close. Centra was a dangerous continent still. The veterans had begun visibly steeling themselves to continue as soon as the coastline came into view, and whispers leaked back from the scavenging parties of why, stories about mouldering skeletons found in decrepit trenches, and vast stretches of shredded trees. After one lecture, Tess found Lieutenant Keviss staring out a window, gauntlets locked around the frame, and felt obliged to ask if she was okay. There was no response beyond 'Never thought I'd be back here…"

After several weeks travel, G-Garden finally stopped moving, hovering over the middle of a forest that didn't seem to have anything particularly significant about it. Edea emerged from the headmaster's suite long enough to establish that all they had to do from now on was wait, that Garden would come to them.

The lectures ended. Dry run drills with the equipment picked up, and true heavy combat gear began to be unpacked from storerooms. Box after box of ammunition, food, tools, medical gear, all those little things required for an army to function. They must have slowly been stocking the gear since Edea had first commandeered G-Garden. What that meant was day after day of lifting and carrying, to get everything ready for what Edea assured them was coming. Soldiers spent more time with manual handling than with blades in hand. It was very reminiscent of Marcus' war stories, the ones set right before the big slaughters.

The magic stocks were also unveiled at this time, and Zephon went to work.

He chose his targets carefully. When the stocks were opened, the collection of sedated monsters with natural magic, he knew that the Meteor and Ultima were out of his reach. There were strict rules against pillaging stocks, and since he didn't have any well placed relatives, they would be strictly enforced against him. He was well stocked with Sleep and Blind, but he needed more to hope to survive. So he waited. When he saw a soldier he didn't know stocking Berserk or Dispel, he drew his deck of cards and challenged him or her. Several veterans immediately grinned, drew their decks, and advanced on him, as he bet his best cards against their magic. Nobody liked a bully, and they weren't about to let him get away with mugging lesser players.

Triple Triad had first become popular in the Galbadian army. The standard was higher among soldiers than anywhere else in the world. He put aside his dignity, refusing challenges from anyone without good magic to lay on the table, refusing a challenge from somebody else with Flare because that spell was no use to him. It would sting a SeeD, but it was too flashy and would draw attention to its caster. A moderate knot of soldiers soon surrounded him, ready to take the cheating bully down a peg or three. He couldn't use his chaff deck today, not if he hoped to win any games. Even fighting at the utmost of his not inconsiderable skills, taking nothing for granted and showing no mercy, his deck soon began to shrink. He gained Berserk, Confuse, Dispel, Blind, Silence, and Poison, and lost T-Rexaurs, Marlboros, and Behemoths. Wedge/Biggs and X-ATMs won him Slow, and then were snatched away to disappear. He patched the gaps from his chaff deck and kept issuing challenges, the kind few soldiers had the courage to refuse. Two hours later, he had double his previous magic stocks… and four cards. After ten years of meticulous building, his TT deck was broken. Marcus would probably understand, but it hurt to see it go.

Drills or not, it was impossible to keep this many soldiers occupied for long. The army hadn't brought any camp followers, but there was a market set up in two of the assembly halls for any soldiers with a trade. A few tents were set up in the basketball courts for those who wanted to take advantage of being pretty and bored, but there were only ten volunteers, and the queues were ridiculous. One Sergeant Major was left alone and furious because nobody was stupid enough to touch an NCO.

A play in the auditorium (_Sorceress War: The Musical_) was initially packed, until someone threw a chair at the actress playing Adel, and three people were in the infirmary before everything was back under control. A talent show came next, all with military participants, and this one fared better. Put five thousand people in a room, some of them will know how to use instruments or sing. Zephon attended the final clash, where a haunting rendition of 'Eyes on Me' was beaten out by a bubbly girl who'd written and composed her own song.

'_I kissed my love on Monday night,_

_And found to my dismay, _

_That he'd been chewing spider webs,_

_I could not get away'_

The various verses elaborated on further tests of her patience, from Fire Breath forcing her to repaint the house to laser eyebeams melting her jewellery. Upon discovering that chewing Marlboro tentacles gave her love Bad Breath, the narrator finally gave up.

'_Confused Blind Poisoned Silenced,_

_I stumbled towards the door, _

_And that's when I decided that_

_I could not take no more,_

_Now I'm an open minded girl, _

_But on my pers'nal gauge_

_There's nothing so frustrating,_

_As dating a blue mage._

While 'Eyes on Me' was better received by the audience, the judges ruled that delivery had been better for 'The Blues' and deemed it the winner. The singer was awarded remodelling vouchers and a spell of her choice from the elite military stocks, to be collected at any time.

A report from a fast scout boat came through that day. Garden had been spotted on the horizon. Edea had been right. They were coming to meet her, to put an end to her. With the Galbadian army right between the two. Assuming they kept at more or less the same speed, they'd reach G-Garden in two days.

The soldiers were paid the next morning. In cash. The Lieutenant in charge shrugged and said that since there was no bank on G- Garden's campus, it made more sense, but generally the wages were paid back into an account back in DC. So he hunted down Tess and they wandered down to the marketplace, wondering what to do with it. He was as well prepared as he could be, and there was only so much he could eat. They each got a non-military ration meal, then Tess bought a back issue of Timber Maniacs that had probably been sitting in someone's foot locker for ten years, and started doing the crosswords. She looked at him slightly oddly after he bought a heavy broad rimmed hat, but didn't comment. They could have gotten any number of things, but nothing was really wanted or needed, so they just wandered mindlessly for a time, said hello to Cerberus (he, or she, or them, growled but didn't lunge, knowing by then that the army would cut it to pieces if it got violent, and since none of them used GFs, it couldn't save itself by hiding in someone's mind.) The only truly noteworthy moment was when they came across somebody telling fortunes with cards, and Tess briefly expressed an urge to punch him in the face "Predict this!" She didn't act on it after some discussion.

Finally, after the evening meal, there was a dance in the auditorium. It was surprisingly well attended, gowns and tuxes mixing freely with body armour and jumpsuits. Even Seifer came, and stayed to the end despite having to fend off five separate girls asking him to dance in quick succession. No one quite knew why he was there, leaning against a wall near the back. It wasn't really the place for the Sorceress' bodyguard, but nobody worked up enough courage to ask him to go away.

Zephon spent the evening at a table near the back, staring at the green felted card tables. Tess was across from him with the copy of TimMani. They hadn't a lot to say to each other. There were drinks available, although an announcement early on reminded them 'This is a school, so there'll only be five drinks available for every man, woman, and child in Galbadia'. In fact, there was a strictly enforced three drink maximum and they were all expected to be in bed early and combat ready the next morning. Soldiers drifted away quickly after the first hour, mostly in pairs. Inevitably, as the end of the allotted time neared, 'Eyes on Me' showed up again.

Zephon reached across and flicked Tess' arm. He had to ask. On this night, for this song, it would be un-Galbadian not to get up and acknowledge it. When she looked up, his fingers flickered.

**D-A-N-C-E( Query)**

Tess sat still for a long moment, then leaned across to within earshot.

"In armour? No. Thanks though."

He waved in acknowledgement and sat back.

'_Whenever sang my song,_

_On the stage, on my own,_

_Whenever said my words,_

_Wishing they would be heard'_

Julia Heartilly had been a talented musician, but there'd been a reason she had never been allowed to write her own lyrics before this song. Not that it made the release any less popular. Most of the room stood up, more than a few at parade rest.

'_I saw you smiling at me,_

_Was it real, or just my fantasy?_

_You'd always be there in the corner,_

_Of this, tiny, little bar._

"Last orders, folks!" There was a slight flurry of activity, but most people's attention was elsewhere. Zephon, attracted the staff's attention with military handsigns and ordered two last drinks without stopping singing. A soldier near the bar glanced up.

'_My last night here for you,_

_Same old songs, just once more,_

_My last night here with you,_

_Maybe yes, maybe no…'_

You couldn't escape 'Eyes on Me' if you lived in Galbadia. It was even played at weddings, by people who had never paid enough attention to the lyrics to realise it wasn't exactly appropriate for anyone who expected their relationship to last. Some woman in a military jumpsuit did five somersaults and a flip through the centre of the waltzers. She was crying.

'_I kind of liked it your way,_

_How you shyly placed your eyes on me._

_Did you ever know?_

_That I had mine, on you…'_

That was probably why it had been adopted by the Galbadian army. Odds were good Julia's grief had been about a lost soldier, and nobody was more familiar with bereavement than the army. They knew exactly how it felt to say your goodbyes to somebody you knew you probably wouldn't see alive again.

'_Darling so there you are,_

_With that look on your face,_

_As if you're never hurt,_

_As if you're never down,_

Tess had returned to her crossword, using the lights in her visor. Her head jerked up as a blue Galbadian soldier pulled up a chair at their table, his fingers flickering.

**Your handsigns have improved, Z-E-P-H-O-N.**

'_Shall I be the one for you?_

_Who pinches you softly, but sure,_

_If frown is shown, then I will know, that_

_You are no dreamer!_

By now almost every soldier in the room was singing. There's was too much sound for communication by anything other than handsigns.

**I've had practice. Identify yourself (Query)**

The soldier extended his tongue, or tried to. His lips parted, but the tongue that emerged was a jagged stub, not quite long enough to emerge past his mouth. Tess dropped her crossword.

"_Ez!?"_

Ezetian grinned, fingers flashing.

**Affirmative/agreement/permission, soldiers. Long intervening period. How have you been?**

**You were KIA. **

**Not yet. Soon.**

_So let me come to you,_

_Close as I want to be,_

_Close enough for me, _

_To feel your heart, beating fast…_

**That's not certain. **Tess.

**You're young.**

**Fuck you! **Both of them, this time. Maybe it was a bad idea to include that particular sign in the handbooks, but the army tolerated certain kinds of dissent. Ez raised his hands.

**Apology. But we volunteered.**

'_And stay there as I whisper,_

_How I love your peaceful eyes on me,_

_Did you ever know?_

_That I had mine, on you…_

Tess was motionless for a long moment.

**Didn't volunteer. I was assigned. **

Ez' fingers faltered.

**Apology. Necessary, though.**

His drink arrived, and he cast Float on it to free his hands.

**To the day after tomorrow. Good luck, both of you.**

Clink. Ez stood and walked away. Tess and Zephon glanced at each other. Neither moved.

'_Darling so share with me,_

_Your love if you have enough,_

_Your tears if you're holding back,_

_Or pain if that's what it is._

The Galbadian military was not a choir. Julia Heartilly was drowned out by every kind of voice from growls to squeaks, but they made up for it in pure passion. They all knew what they were going to be facing, and this was_ the_ song for the night before a brutal engagement, especially if you were leaving someone behind.

'_How can I let you know?_

_I'm more than the dress and the voice,_

_Just reach me out, then you will know, that,_

_You are not dreeeeaming.'_

The two soldiers looked at each other through their masks, and stood up to leave. As soon as they were far enough away to hear each other Tess caught his wrist and leaned close to his ear.

"Do you… Do you have a spare bunk in your room?"

"What?" There were four beds in his room, but he was the only person billeted in it. Tess' head tilted downwards in a movement consistent with a glance away from his eyes.

"My sergeant came to me, and said to find someone I trusted to spend tonight with. Night before a major clash… is not a good time to be a girl with no friends."

"And… you trust me?" He probed the gap in his teeth. She had no good reason to trust him, not really, but he would have to try to be worthy of it. She deserved that, for tonight at least.

"Ker's not here, and at the very least I can identify you. But… I don't think it'll be necessary." _You mean I am not inclined to molest the trained killer locked in my room? How flattering._

"It's okay with me… but are there really no girls you could bunk in with?"

"Yes, but why would they give a shit about what happened to me? You think we're in some kind of guild?"

"I thought transfers were always done in pairs?"

"…I'll explain later. So you do have a spare bed?"

Someone whistled when they saw Tess walking with him carrying her few possessions, but neither of them bothered to look around.

000000

Tess set down her bundles above the wardrobe, glancing around the room. Four steel framed beds, desks, wardrobe. One outer door, one door into the bathroom, no windows. It was sparse but adequate, and since the room had been built for four, they had plenty of space. Tess unclipped her sword and laid it on the weapons rack beside his.

"Do we have time to spar?"

"Sparring's barred tonight. We're all nervy, there'd be too many injuries."

Tess nodded and sat down at one of the steel desks, picking up her crossword. He was about to move to stand behind her, but elected not to at the last moment, settling instead on the heel of the bed directly across from her.

"Ok, three left to do. 'Lady I rather fancy, 7 letters.'"

"What? How the hell is anyone supposed to guess that? Is he trying to sneak in a declaration of love?"

"It's a she. Doubt it. Begins with H."

"…Don't know. The others?"

"Song title. 'The Thousand **BLANK** of Winhill."

"'Scents'. I remember hearing it somewhere."

"Thanks. I think that's the best I'm going to do tonight."

"You shouldn't give up hope that easily. What's the last one?"

There was a bang on the door. "Lights out in ten minutes, we've all got a big day tomorrow, so make sure you get some sleep! If you don't, at least be quiet!"

Tess sighed, ripped the page into quarters, crumpled them, and flung the pieces at the wall. "That's that, then. I was hoping I'd get to finish it, but... Anyway, it's your room. You want to go first?"

He reached for his toothbrush and stood. "You know, I always meant to ask…what do you do to your teeth to get them that shiny?"

The aforementioned teeth gleamed. "A basic standard of hygiene? I never thought about it. Something in the water back home, maybe. Get going, we don't have long."

He snapped her a salute.

"Poser!"

000000

A short time later, the various creaks of Tess shedding her armour echoed down from the bunk above him. His room had no windows, so once the lights were quenched, you could see nothing beyond silhouettes, and those at close range. He'd weeks ago added the obligatory 'I was here' across the rest of the graffiti that decorated every student dorm in the universe. Some of it was written in Ancient Centran. You could tell Garden was a good school. But he couldn't see it now, or much else.

No sooner were they in bed than somebody nearby started singing Eyes on Me **again. **Various others picked it up, until the dorms echoed with Julia Heartilly's swansong once more.

_My last night here with you,_

_Maybe yes, maybe no…_

When it was done, Zephon glanced up at another creak.

"You're not Galbadian, are you?"

"What?"

"You didn't sing."

Pause.

"Singing? That's what you noticed?"

"What?"

"Seriously? Nobody I trained with liked my accent. I could never trust any of them too far. Except Ker, but she's not here."

"What accent?"

"Did you ever listen to me? Listen to me talking."

_Litten ta me takkin._ She'd thickened it for him, but there was still a thin thread of it in her normal speech. He'd noted it as slightly strange when he'd met her, but hadn't thought it had much significance. But, with help, he recognised it now.

"Timber."

A half laugh. "Yeah, well, I did make it easy for you. So, going to stab me through the mattress?"

"Hardly." He wasn't important enough for her to be a planted spy, and if her accent was that recognisable someone else would've noticed it when she was recruited. "Why are you in the army?"

"You really want to know?"

"We've time." A creak.

"My parents were murdered by the Galbadian army when I was two. I was brought up by my aunt, to duck my head, pay my respects, and stay out of their sightlines as much as I could. There were always stories, and every now and then somebody would disappear on their way home. I lived near a swing bridge for the trains, and my friends and I used to do this test of courage kind of thing where we waited to see how late we could leave running away. One day I left it too late, fell onto the tracks and broke my ankle. I would have died there, except for some soldiers passing on patrol. One of them dragged me back of the tracks. It was an incredibly brave thing to do, he must've felt the breath of it clipping his heels. Then they just walked away, since if I'd gone home in the company of soldiers, none of the locals would've spoke to me again.

"I hadn't been raised to believe that Galbadian soldiers did things like that. So, long story short, once I turned fifteen I decided to get a better perspective. Been here a year and a half now." _Ugh. She almost got through. And I thought I was unlucky._

"And?"

"No conclusions yet. Mostly, people are people. Still, it was tough until Dollet. In combat, nobody cares who you are so long as you fight on their side. Ker noticed right away, but it didn't bother her. And you were great, you never give a shit about anything that doesn't keep you from getting paid."

"Yeah? Well, once I'm out of the army and my pension is locked in place, I might surprise you."

"Should I be worried?" Quick, sharp.

"No, I meant, uh… something else."

Silence for a time.

"Cold this far south, isn't it?"

That it was. Winter kits had been issued, but not extra blankets, and there was a chill in the air.

"Keep me warm?" He mentally kicked himself as soon as he'd said it. Huddling together was in the survival handbooks, but was intended more for extended campaigns above the snowline than slightly cold days in sheltered buildings. "I mean, I could start a fire, but there's no window in here, so that could be dangerous."

"Are you going to talk about dying a virgin next?" A smile in the voice now.

"No. Dad had strong views on that."

"Do tell."

"_It might be that you find somebody cute wrapped around you the night before a major engagement. If it happens, be very careful how you proceed. There are a lot of ways that can go, and some of them are more problematic than they look. On those nights, people are in fragile states of mind, but if they survive the next day, they're likely to remember how you treated them. Be especially careful if someone decides they're in love with you. They might mean it at the time, but nine times in ten they'll come to their senses by the next evening._

_Of course, if it's a hooker, by all means get value for money.'"_

He'd told that story to Trev once, back in training. It had been one of the few times Zephon had beat him in a straight spar. In tears from the crack on his jaw, Trev had accepted the hand up still giggling, whispering 'Best Parent Ever' before he walked away.

"One of his basic principles was 'Never make a decision, except your will and your insurance, based on the assumption that you'll be dead before you have to deal with the consequences. That's the thing about Dad. He knows all about the pitfalls, because he fell into most of them. I mean, he was pulled out of a classroom aged fifteen, trained a little, and then spent the rest of the war trying to learn enough to survive. There were plenty of mistakes along the way.'"

"Like…"

"Fathering twins on your sergeant in the middle of a minefield in Centra, for a start. They didn't even like each other, and it made things awkward with the squad. When she started… uh, expanding, or whatever, I don't know the real word, she was pulled off the lines and set down at a desk at a supply base. Which happened to be in the path of an Esthari counteroffensive. Esthari law meant they couldn't execute her while pregnant, that was Adel's law because she had a thing for little girls, so they waited for us to be born and then executed her by firing squad. Thrustaevis was tested for whatever it was Adel was looking for, and we were supposed to be thrown in a furnace after that, but Mom convinced, or blackmailed, or something, some guards into sending us home, naming Dad as next of kin. I think he's still carrying scars from the whole thing."

Tess was silent for a time. Then:

"Can I say something without offending you?"

"Uh… No guarantees, but I'll try."

"Bullshit. That's a backstory, not something that could actually happen. It sounds a lot like a parable to me, something you tell your son to make sure he takes care of his sister. 'You owe her your life, she's the only reason you survived to be born.'."

Zephon sighed. He was not in the mood to argue tonight.

"Maybe. But that was during the war, it's not such a unique situation. It doesn't matter anyway."

"Y'know, I always thought Adel kidnapping kids was a bit strange. It sounded like someone in the Galbadian Press Office decided 'We need to motivate our soldiers. Everyone likes kids, let's say she abuses them'. But here we are, twenty years later, still looking for Ellone. Talk about being born unlucky. Poor girl."

Silence. Then… "Anyway, about that warmth…"

Rustle, the sound of bare feet on rungs… and a yelp of pain.

"You okay?"

"Bedpost. Fucking toe…" He glanced up, and could just about make out her silhouette in the darkness. She had broad shoulders, but unarmoured, she was even smaller than he'd assumed. He sat up and reached out one hand, fingertips touching cloth before meeting a warm hand that clasped his.

"Show me your foot. It's probably fine, but you don't want to be limping tomorrow."

Using his hand as a guide, she settled onto the bed, after some blind fumbling managed to rest the offending foot in his lap. He ran his right hand along the arch, prompting a shiver for some reason, until he found her big toe, announced by a soft hiss. Casting blind, he needed contact, and after finding out where it was, he brought his other hand up to get a feel for the approximate area.

"Regen! Best I can do." It was overwhelmingly likely to be a waste of magic, but the slightest limp or stumble could make a big difference if she had to fight toe to toe.

"Thanks. Honestly." One of her fingertips poked his left eyebrow. "Where are you?"

He caught the hand and guided it to his shoulder as she twisted her feet back down towards the foot of the narrow bunk . "Here."

"Okay, you can lie back down."

He obliged. His blanket lifted and then, true to her word, soft warmth, first beside him, then across his chest and shoulders as Tess fought for enough space not to fall off the narrow bunk. His mind went blank for a heartbeat.

Despite the tone of their conversation, his mental image of Tess had always included military armour. Although logically that was silly, he'd never thought of her as having an independent existence from her uniform. It was like bumping into your lawyer at the beach.

At the moment, she was dressed the same way he was, military issue vest and shorts, which took some reconciling to the soft, wiry warmth pressed against him, arms around his shoulders, head nestled in his chest as he lay on his back. He'd never realised that she would be so hot to the touch. After a moment, Tess raised her head.

"Something wrong?"

"No… I've always wanted to get a novelty hot water bottle that undermined my sense of self worth." Tess gave an amused exhalation, and he felt the air of it on his neck. She laid her ear over his heart, and settled down. It really did make a difference to have someone else in the bunk.

"Better add that to my career list, then."

"…Astrophysicist, Armoured Wet Girl… what was the other one?"

"God, wasn't it?"

"And now professional hot water bottle."

"Careful." Her thumb pressed into the back of his neck briefly. She was still wary, which admittedly made a lot of sense.

"I'm not going to hurt you, you know. I couldn't if I wanted to."

"Aren't you stocked with status effects?" _Wait… she knew that, and still came here?_

"Status spells have an area effect, you're too close to me for them to work." True. But he could've knocked her out earlier.

"And you don't want to lose your pension."

He had to growl. "Were you listening at all? I don't have a virginity speech planned, because it's not important! If I get stabbed tomorrow, my last thought as I bleed out onto the… carpet, or tiles, or whatever Garden is floored with, is going to be 'Oh shit, I'm going to die', not 'Oh well, at least I did/didn't die a virgin.' If I think about anyone, it's going to be T and Dad! Blood is thicker than semen!"

This time Tess outright laughed. "Really? How do you know? Did you go around to the company sergeants with test tubes?"

"Thought about it, decided I'd already broken my nose once." He hooked one arm up around her shoulders. There was muscle there –of course there was, nobody could wear armour all day without a certain amount of bulk– but she was amazingly cuddly for all that. Shifting against him, she brought her head up to rest near his shoulder. He still couldn't see anything beyond blurry movement, and slid his hand up the back of her head. Tess had short, slightly curled hair to her ears, just reaching to the base of her neck at the back. Well, he'd learned something new today. Her left hand trailed up and down his spine, right climbing his neck.

"I'd like to argue about taking what joys you can when you can, but given my current, um, position, I can't think of a way to say that right now that couldn't be mistaken for hitting on you. When did you shave your head?"

"Before the Parade, on a whim. After I broke my face, I felt like a change."

Tess drew back, planting both hands on his shoulders to raise her head off his chest. The front of her vest hung down slightly, which might have been of interest to him had there been enough light to see. As it was, he could just about make out the wet gleams of eyes in her silhouette.

"You're not going to let that go, are you? I said I was sorry about your teeth, and I-"

"Teeth? Look, sparring gets out of hand all the time, it's nothing I worry about. It's not like I was pretty to begin with."

"I wouldn't know. What made you think I was cute, by the way? You don't know what I look like."

"I was quoting. You're right, I don't know. I'll let you know tomorrow if you like."

"Maybe, if you wake up first."

Pause.

"Tell me something, Tess… Why are you even here right now? The room, I can understand, but there was no need to agree to be a heater."

"…You really want to know?"

"Yeah. You can't be very comfortable up there."

"You'd be surprised. Don't worry, your virtue is safe."

Further pause.

"I'm probably going to die tomorrow. Win or lose, we'll be decimated-"

"One in ten? It won't be that easy."

"Right. There's no getting away from it, my chances aren't good. There's nothing I can do about that, it's the Behemoth in the room, and the doors are locked. So, what do you do when locked in a room with a Behemoth?"

"Uh… hide?"

"Hard to do, it'll sniff you out before long. No, you let an Anacondaur out of its cage and wrap it around your leg. Not so big a problem, but much more immediate, it'll grab all your attention for a while. So…"

He felt her lips curve up against the side of his neck.

"Right now, I'm mostly ignoring the Behemoth…because I'm trying to decide the best way to tell my surviving best friend that my breasts have given him an erection."

Someone in a neighbouring dorm guffawed, and all thoughts of the next morning fled. Zephon felt Tess cringe, but he could still feel the smile against his neck. She burrowed closer, and he tightened his grip. Whatever happened tomorrow, he would love her for this moment for the rest of his life. Neither moved or spoke again that night, and fairly soon both were asleep. Which, in itself, was an unexpected gift.


	25. Biker

**Biker**

Zephon opened his eyes. The dorm was dark, but that didn't mean much. There was no one wrapped around him. He raised his head, flicked on a lamp.

"Morning!" Tess said, visible from the neck down as she did chin ups on the doorframe to the bathroom.

"What time is it?"

"Almost seven, I think. Eight! We have to be ready early, -Nine!- they'll be coming soon. Ten!" She dropped down, jumpsuited and helmeted, but not armoured, and settled into press ups, pausing only to give him a long stare. "Sit on me, and I cannot guarantee your safety."

"Of course." He climbed out of bed and dropped into a leg stretch. "Heard anything yet?"

"I'm just up, thought I might as well be dressed when they came to batter down the door."

Leg switch. "Fair enough."

He ran through the full set of stretches, gradually moving from toes to neck. Tess had finished hers and taken her shower before he was done.

Then the rap came at the door.

"We're up!" Zephon called.

"We? Enjoyed your night, then? Don't answer me, I don't care. B-Garden's been spotted, I want you all in position in two hours. Got that?"

"Sir!"

Tess emerged from the bathroom, visored again. She looked at him for some time, silent.

"So that's what you look like, huh?"

"Am I beautiful?"

"No, you're ugly. There are worse afflictions." A strand of damp, dark red hair slipped down past her visor for a moment before being tucked back into place. "It's a matter of taking too many hard hits to the face."

He had to laugh. "Something else to blame SeeD for."

"I suppose. A true tragedy..."

"And what about you? Come on, let me get a look at you."

"Nah."

"That's not very fair."

"No. It's not," she said, with one of those bright smiles she was so good at. He shrugged and went to take his shower. By the time he came out, she had the beds made and gear packed, but still wasn't armoured. He made sure his hat and longcoat was in his kitbag, and was about to scramble into his own when she caught his eye.

"Squire me?" He moved to help. It was possible to put on your own armour, but a squire could save you a good five minutes and do a better, safer job overall. Then she helped with his armour, callused fingertips brushing lightly across the clasps, and they were ready to go. But they'd been up early, and the call to the mess hadn't been sounded. So they sat back down on the bed.

"Card game?" Tess suggested, after a few minutes.

Zephon snapped out his arm. "I'd love to, but…" He fanned his four cards.

"What's wr– Oh, right. How did you manage to lose all of them, I thought Matt said you were supposed to be good!"

"Thought I was too. Always someone better, I guess. Anyway, I can't play."

Tess sighed, and fanned her deck face up. "Pick one, then, so you can start rebuilding. You'd probably make better use of it than I would."

He stared at her through his mask. "Tess…"

"What? It's traditional to kick start the newbies, right?"

"Yeah, but… Thanks. I mean it." He picked up a Turtapod Card. It was unlikely she cared, but it was a card not so weak as to be insulting, not strong enough to come across as greedy.

"Alright, so…game?"

"It's not polite to duel the person who started you out. It's like stabbing your fight training teacher. I'd be guilty cleaning you out, and It'd be for nothing If I lost first. Some other time, maybe."

"Alright, then–"

There was a second rap on the door.

"Garden's in sight, places people."

The two soldiers' masked stares met. He reached for her hand and squeezed it, hard.

"Good luck. Don't die."

"You too." _Luck? I'll need it._

They exchanged salutes, and then left for their separate assignments.

000000

The RATOM squad was almost assembled when he got there, after a detour to the cafeteria. He hadn't bothered learning anything beyond names and faces in his new position, knowing most of these soldiers would be dead before the end of the day. The officer in charge, dressed in ordinary infantry gear so as not to stand out to the defenders, beckoned them close for only a moment. The speeches had been made, the drills had been done, there was only one thing left to be said.

"Good luck everyone."

The thirty soldiers dispersed to their assigned bikes. Zephon clambered onto his, wiping sweat from the back of his neck. Seifer was on a podium nearby, but no one was paying him much attention. Some of the soldiers were muttering to themselves, or flexing their hands. Most were still. Zephon inventoried his spells, checked his bike for any obvious mechanical faults (the mechanics had checked five times since this morning, but still) and waited.

Then, over the PA system: "She's coming! Bracebracebrace!"

The entire building shuddered, but the clamps held the bikes in place. Technicians removed them, and then the second announcement arrived.

"Garden is temporarily held in place. Squad 1, move out!"

000000

Touchdown jarred all the way to his shoulders, but his grip remained steady. The flight had been under AI control, and although there'd been a heart stopping moment where his front wheel slipped on Garden's exterior shell, he didn't fall. Then the thirty bikes crashed down right in the middle of the defender's formation. Zephon had enough time to catch the expressions of the surrounding defenders –surprise- and then his wheel hit something hard and the bike began to flip forward. He threw himself to one side in time to avoid being crushed as the bike rolled past end over end ahead of him, tearing various pieces of shrubbery apart before finally landing upright, but with the rear wheel buried to the hub in soft soil. Gunshots and clangs echoed through the trees as Zephon hauled himself upright, the Float spell cast in midair enough to soften his landing. That settled it. He was the worst RATOM recruit in history. His front wheel had struck the side of the path and flipped into the shrubbery of the quad. The engine stuttered and died. Scuttling towards it, he crouched in its shadow to watch the battle unfold.

SeeD had been ready and waiting, but they'd been expecting infantry to be deployed out of transports and the bulk of the fighting on foot. Bikes landing in their midst presented a number of problems.

SeeDs were hellishly expensive to hire. Anyone working on less than a government budget could rarely afford more than five or six (and if whatever the problem was needed more than that, it would usually be easier just to move away). That meant that SeeDs were more used to working in small independent squads than a massed defensive line.

The bikes were armoured enough to take a bullet or two, but you needed to be very brave and very skilled to open fire on a fast moving target in the middle of a melee. If you missed, there was no way to tell who might have been standing behind your target. Automatic weapons were almost completely useless. With single target magic, the bike would likely be somewhere else by the time your spell took effect. Area effect spells worked, but you'd hit ten defenders as well as your target. And as for GFs… even if they had a clear shot, SeeD were far more inclined to leave a huge smoking crater in the middle of the wilderness or on an enemy base than in the building they have spent the last ten years of their lives in. Before the battle even began, SeeD were effectively hamstrung, with only melee attacks available to deal with soldiers who weren't sitting still to wait for them.

The Galbadians were still going to die, of course. SeeD had not become the most feared military force on the planet by being slow to adapt. Even as he watched, an exquisitely timed Blizzard crashed down just ahead of an oncoming Galbadian, who tumbled off his bike, with no Float to save his landing. There was a howl from the defenders as they realised they now had at least one clean target, and dozens of spells roared towards the victim.

Who hadn't cast Float with the one breath snatched in midair.

He'd cast Reflect.

More than thirty repelled spells knocked dozens of defenders off their feet. Mostly SeeD cadets, some taking more than a few seconds to regain their footing. Deciding that after a move like that, his comrade deserved help, Zephon opened up from the shrubbery with the machine gun mounted on the front of his bike. Most of the shots rebounded from Protection, but there were a few pained yelps, and it kept them occupied. One SeeD stepped forward as the downed G-Soldier stumbled towards his battered bike.

A reserve rocket from another circling Galbadian struck the sword wielding SeeD in the back of the head. An ordinary person would have been torn apart from the hips, but that SeeD was junctioned, and only lost the back of his skull. As he splashed forwards, there was a brief lull in the fighting, enough time for an indrawn breath.

First blood. It had no actual material significance, but the psychological worth was best not to be underestimated. Some of the younger defenders, the SeeD cadets, especially the under fifteens, were standing very still. This wasn't how defences against overwhelming odds were supposed to happen. The forces of evil were supposed to charge in huge numbers and be slaughtered in droves, and any heroes who died were supposed to slowly succumb to dozens of wounds after a heroic last stand. The very first enemy attack wasn't supposed to be _effective._

They'd recover, of course. Even normal children were naturally resilient, those combat trained by SeeD would come to their senses soon, and never make that mistake again. Nobody got more than one innocence. Galbadia had to make the most of their period of grace.

SeeD knew it too. A girl shouted, and the same unseated Galbadian exploded in his armour, the Flare spell spattering blood around him in a wide circle. Zephon's eyes followed that shout, to a girl with long brown hair and a heart shaped badge pinned to her lapel…

_Well, well… _He got back on his bike, ignited the engine. Someone would have noticed where the gunfire had come from, he had to move. But his back wheel was still stuck.

"Float!"

The wheel rose somewhat, enough to gain some purchase. He revved the bike, and it surged forwards. His front wheel slammed straight into the side of a defender's head, knocking him over backwards. The force of a wheel slamming someone's head into the ground would have popped most people's skulls like eggshells, but his victim was obviously heavily junctioned, and even stood back up after taking the hit.

Zephon took one quick look around. The defense had broken apart into squads, and some blond guy with a face tattoo –_Wasn't he in prison?-_ was shouting to restore order, with two other SeeDs at his side daring any Galbadians to try and interrupt. There would only be moments before the defence regained its composure. He had to get out of here. Surging forward, he turned the bike towards the stairs, veering close to the squad with heart shaped badge girl. He waved. Her whip flashed, and he snapped his head to one side, the barb at the very tip of its length scoring a deep gash down his left cheek. It hadn't been a wild shot –she'd been trying to take his eye. Speeding up, he almost lost control again juddering up the stairs. Another bike overtook him just before he reached the exit, machine gun opening up on the entrance to Garden's main hall. A blue flash…there was a barrier across the doorway.

"Dispel!" Zephon shouted, tucking his head to one side to snatch a breath. The barrier dissolved. The other Galbadian spared him a salute before veering back to the fight as Zephon's bike burst out into the Garden's main hall._ Thanks for that one, Sis._

He had to slow down somewhat in the narrower corridors of the circular hall, surprising three guards standing across the hall as he did so. They hadn't been expecting a breakthrough quite so soon, and he barrelled through their midst before they were fully ready, but one knife throw narrowly missed his thigh, buckling one of the steel plates in the side of the armoured bike.

He was just passing the sign for the dorms when the floor turned to glass beneath his wheels, and he skidded into the barrier between himself and the pond. The bike started to flip from the back again, and he splashed into the central pond a heartbeat before its surface grew an icy patina. Armoured, he sank to the bottom as the surface burst into shards above him. He counted to thirty, and then used Float to climb out. His bike was dead again, and this far beyond the front line, engine noise would draw defenders like Geezards to blood. Snagging his kit bag from the fallen bike, he dodged into the nearest place off the corridor.

There was a sign over the door. 'DANGER! Training Center'.

"Great." His boots rang on metal as he ducked through the huge metal door. On the plus side, there wasn't likely to be any SeeDs in here. "Well, while I'm here…" He eyed the big outer hinge. "Meltdown!" That one wasn't a gift from Thrustaevis, it was military siege issue. He'd never be able to slice through the hinge on his own strength, without the spell to soften the reinforced steel first. Spell or not, though, swinging a sword against it would make noise. Removing Thrustaevis' coat from his bag, he wrapped it around the hinge before he started to swing. The sound was not completely buried, but the clang didn't reverberate into Garden the way it otherwise would have. Despite the spell, the hinge took close to fifteen minutes of hard swinging to break through. He was just starting on the lower one when he heard the voice.

"What do you think?"

"No body. He's hiding somewhere."

"Could be the dorms, though." _No way…I know that voice._

"No. Too much chance of running into somebody. Sabres are in the parking lot, he's not underwater…training centre's pretty unlikely but we'd better check…" He knew those voices.

_Shit. _"Haste." He fled. Deeper into the training centre, to the right.

_They'll see the hinge and follow me… Maybe I can slip past in the trees…_

_No. This is their training centre. They'll know where all the cover is. I can't hide, not really. Better find somewhere good to make a stand…_

It was a nice training centre. Artificial moss, trees for cover, synthetic grass… A T-Rexaur was coiled next to the pond, curled up asleep. Zephon primed a 'Sleep', palms sweating, but the creature didn't stir. He was a truly magnificent beast, three, four centuries old, pale scars tracing his muzzle, one crossing a missing eye. Probably the head of the herd in here. Zephon drew his Chef's Knife, but he wasn't sure he'd even have the strength to pierce the monster's leathery hide. Best not to tempt fate. He sheathed the knife, but left the ties unbuckled. Maybe if he stayed close to the monster, the SeeDs wouldn't risk waking it. T-Rexaurs slept a lot. If it did wake, he'd have once chance to put it back to Sleep, and if the spell didn't take, he was lunch. This wasn't a monster you could bluff or play games with. A safety margin might be a good idea.

"Float!" he whispered, and walked forward, hovering over the surface of the dock. He might have a chance to run if it had to wade to reach him. Unless there were water mon–

He caught the movement below the surface just in time, and brought his sword up in front of his face as the four tentacles burst from under the water, slamming into his arms and chest. He took four steps back from the edge of the pond, and the tentacles whipped back again. He dodged one, but the second took his left leg from under him. He barely rolled aside as the third slammed down from above where his head had been, and scrambled further back as the creature finally emerged fully from the pond.

_Grat. 7113, Level 2 Card. Weak against Fire…but it's been sitting in a pond for who knows how long.. Most things with tentacles grab and reel, but this thing likes to break some bones first._

He backed away. It wasn't a high level monster, but still nothing he could take alone.

"Fire!" The monster flinched back, but was still too damp to catch alight. A tentacle swept for him again, he got his sword up to meet it, leaving a tiny gash in the hard globe at the end, but almost sending him to one knee. He threw himself backwards again as two more tentacles lunged from either side, clashing together an inch from his nose.

_Shitshitshit. "Fire! Thunder!"_ Direct hits. The Grat flinched back, but didn't seem unduly damaged. Still, it was slowed enough that he could turn and bolt, running close enough to Rex' jaws to be thrown off balance by the thing's fetid breath. Recovering, he dived into a small hollow in one of the walls, with a metal grille across it that parted when he pressed a button set into the wall. A tentacle flashed after him, but he blocked the strike on the flat of his sword, the blade creaking ominously, but holding as his other handed flicked the inside switch to reinstate the grille. It closed around the Grat's outstretched tentacle, the globe at its end preventing the thing from being withdrawn. Three wild hacks severed the tip of the tentacle, and the grat battered the grille with its other three, but couldn't penetrate.

_Alright, I'm safe. Now I just have to wait for the SeeDs._

He closed his eyes. _Running again…Damn it, I wanted to win at least one fight before I died._

Breath.

_You know what? Fuck it, why not?"_

" Fire! Fire!" The spells were enough to force the Grat back, and Zephon came out of the passage in a fighting crouch. The severed tentacle was trailing some liquid that dissolved the moss it touched, but with his eyes covered by his visor, as long as he kept his mouth closed he'd at most suffer a few burns. An intact tentacle smashed down from above –this time, after he dodged aside, he nailed it to the ground with the point of his sword. The Grat tugged on its pinned tentacle, tearing its flesh some, but Zephon lost his grip on the hilt as the Grat pulled itself free, two other globes driving forward into his armour to force him back again, away from his weapon. Casting Fires from either hand, he charged to try and regain it, but the Grat wasn't going to let him get near, forcing him back to its optimum distance every time he tried.

He circled, casting, but the Grat was smart enough to dodge if it could see a spell coming. He had some statuses, but none that would do him much good here. You couldn't blind something with no eyes, or put a plant to Sleep. Making it go Berserk wouldn't do him any good, and a Confuse was only useful if you were attacked by more than one thing. "Slow!"

He stumbled over a sweeping tentacle and took a globe straight to the visor, landing on his back again. Tentacles wrapped around his body armour, trying to crush the breath from him and failing, but they were slowly drawing him closer as the severed tentacle dripped acid across his face, burning his chin and throat. But his eyes were clear, and he saw the tentacles were about to draw him over his dropped sword.

The Grat opened its maw, revealing the pool of digestive acids it was about try dip his head in.

"Float!" The sword leapt to his hand. Slashing one handed, he didn't have the strength to sever the tentacle, but its grip slipped for a moment, and he was able to bring his hands together and, for a brief instant inside his effective melee range, drive the sword with all his strength into the creature's digestive sac. Acid leaked from the puncture wound, and he managed a kick to the hilt, driving it deeper, before the tentacles flung him away, hard. He kept his feet this time, glimpsing a brown haired girl in a casting stance…

"Don't you dare!"

She stood back as the Grat charged him, his fire spells streaking towards that exposed hilt, trying to drive it out and through, using his arms to block tentacles even when they cut him, always moving back… –Until he wasn't, lunging past the first two tentacles as the third tangled his feet, throwing out both hands to catch himself from falling, his full weight pressing into the sword hilt and slicing down, spilling digestive acids free. A final Fire into the cut gap, and the four vine tentacles went limp, and Zephon had a chance to catch his breath. Yanking his sword free as the thing's digestive juices started to devour itself, he examined it. It had never been a good weapon, but now the blade was etched.

After a moment, he turned away from his first ever combat victory, panting. "Hi." Here, he wouldn't have it so easy. She was carrying a whip, which he had never been trained to fight. He had no idea what to expect, even excluding her undoubtedly exhaustive magic stocks and junctioned GFs.

"Very impressive." Trepie 13 said, smiling but with hard eyes. "We saw your hinge, that can't have been easy. Why did you wave to me?"

"You don't remember?" He planted his sword point down in an artificial log, and took away his hands. "I'm hurt."

The Galbadian guidelines discouraged chatter in combat. Snappy one liners did not grant immunity from stab wounds. However, the rules changed if you were captured and at your enemy's mercy. In that situation, go ahead and talk. Talktalktalk. Talk about the girl you left behind, your favourite sports team, how your six older brothers used to beat you for setting the table wrong. Anything you could think of, that made you more than a uniform. It was easier to kill an enemy soldier when you didn't know that he or she had the same favourite dinner as you. It wouldn't save you if an officer gave an order, but it made you less likely to be killed out of hand because your guard was bored or lazy. Seasoned officers generally didn't allow prisoners to talk.

It seemed an odd flaw in a SeeD. But he'd take what he could get.

"Have we met?"

"Dollet. I won your Quistis card from you. Remember now?"

She blinked. "No… I gave it back to number one, you're lying."

_Seriously? I'm sure she's met a lot of G-Soldiers, but losing a prized card is something you'd remember, especially since with a Hyne damned cult based on the girl. I'm still having flashbacks to losing Dad._

"Am I, Juliet? Or T13, if you prefer."

Narrowed eyes. "Who are you?"

"A ghost from the past, apparently."

"What?"

"Do you seriously not remember? How could you, Jules?"

"What?"

"The mountains? The cards? The candlelit dinner? Then the hotel? You brought me back to your room–"

"That doesn't sound like me." _Damn, too far._

"–and played cards until the sun came up!"

Trepie 13 smiled.

"That definitely doesn't sound like me. Nice try, though." Her hands came up.

"I'm serious! You said number one's hotdog fund had been sacrificed for that card, and you'd die before you went back without it!"

She hesitated. Obviously, she knew some of her memories were unreliable. How did this G-soldier know her name?

"Look, I'll prove it. Are you carrying your card deck?"

She tapped a pocket without looking away.

"Card game?" It'd bring her within arm's reach, at least. And she knew it, judging from her eyes. But she did want to know how he knew her. He might have a few minutes at least before she changed her mind.

He'd thought there's been a buzz from fighting a SeeD sword to sword. But it was nothing to this, putting down your sword hoping to improvise something to extend your life just that little bit further. His heartbeat was perfectly steady.

"Fine." Trepie 13 jerked her head at the grille in the wall. "Through here, there'll be no distractions. _You first."_

"Of course." So she didn't trust him. Why was he still alive, then? He walked through the grille with his back to her, and came out in a pretty large section built in to the building. Judging from the cigarette butts and bottles lying around, this was the schools hidden student refuge. One edge opened on a balcony with a view of the outside. It was no use as a point of entry, though. What use was a staging point with T-Rexaurs between you and the rest of the building? He moved towards the balcony.

"Get back here! I'm not playing cards next to a ledge."

Not stupid, then. SeeD were stronger, faster, and tougher when junctioned, but one thing they were not was any heavier than normal for a human. It might be dicey, but he had a very small chance of throwing her over the edge. Why was she letting him live this long?

He snapped out his arm, and Trepie 13 snapped back into a stance as his TT deck… well, cards now... slid into his hand. Zephon smiled.

"A little jumpy, aren't we? You know I can't possibly take you, right?"

_If she's that cautious, why hasn't she killed me yet?_ He studied the girl. She was coiled steel wire, watching his every move, waiting for… what?

_She's waiting for me to attack… so she won't have to kill me in cold blood. Cute._

He crossed his legs and sat down. He'd have to oblige. If he didn't attack, she'd eventually bring him to someone who wasn't so conscientious, or decide for herself that inconvenience trumped rules of engagement. He was running out of time.

He reached under his armour, watched her tense to spring, and brought both hands back out empty.

"No cash on me." Her left hand blurred, and a coin bounced between them.

"You want to flip?"

"You do it." Definitely not stupid.

He flipped. She didn't watch the coin, keeping her eyes on him. Most people would've been drawn to the movement. Why didn't SeeD make mistakes?

He played his Bomb card at random. Juliet eyed it. "So what does this prove, exactly?" She picked a card –a Belhemel– and went to lay it down opposite his.

"13? Are you in there?"

Juliet couldn't stop her eyes from flickering, and Zephon lunged. Her hand caught his, but he twisted his wrist and jabbed the Chef's Knife into her forearm.

In the instant before it connected, he realised that he had never tested the knife to be sure it actually worked. Then the very point punctured her skin, and Juliet sagged, her grip on his hand coming loose. But they'd both grunted in exertion, and Zephon heard running feet. Sheathing his knife, he stood, hooking his arms around Juliet's neck and waist to put her between him and her SeeD, as the Sword stepped into Garden's Secret area.

"Hey Al!" Zephon said cheerily. Fortunately, his encounters with SeeD were seared into his memory._ Alright, I got one. _

"It's Alan." He saw T13, and went still.

"You… are going to pay for that…" It was barely a whisper.

"What, you mean you'll kill me for personal reasons instead of killing me because of this uniform?" Zephon took a step back, towards the balcony. Of all the situations he never thought he'd be in, holding someone's corpse's hostage in a hostile fortress had never been one of them.

'_I'll do whatever you want, just let the girl go.'_

"What are you laughing at?" the Seed growled.

"Nothing. Sorry. Funny how the world works, isn't it?" He kept backing away. Holding a limp human shield wasn't easy, sooner or later his grip would slip.

"Stay where you are!"

"Or WHAT? You'll kill me? Everyone knows SeeD don't take prisoners unless contracted to, _Alan!" _He didn't slow.

"Well, there's killing and killing."

"Torture, you mean? Takes time, and at the end of the day pain just means you're still alive. Look, there's not a thing you can do to me that I don't have coming already, just for being here, now, in this uniform. Pretty much everyone who touched down on Garden knew they'd never see the sun set. You can't scare me, Alan. Say goodbye to Jules."

He pitched her over the edge of the balcony, head first.

"No!" the SeeD howled, running forward. Zephon bolted past him, through the grille, and out into the training centre proper. His sword was where he left it, lodged in the artificial log just outside, and he snagged it in passing. The T-Rexaur opened one eye as he passed, but obviously this kind of thing happened a lot in here, and it went back to sleep without stirring. If he could just get out in time…

A Firaga erupted ten paces in front of him, the detonation knocking him off his feet. He rolled upright in time to stare into the eyes of the SeeD. Focused, intent eyes.

"You… are dead."

"I take it your love won't be joining us, then? Goes to show what SeeD are made of."

"What? Protect!" The spell settled in front of the reinforced steel door to the Centre, barring any escape.

"You're junctioned. You could have jumped after her, you might have been able to survive the fall and Phoenix her. But you'd prefer to kill than save a life."

"I'd have died." He was engaging with the conversation rather than striking to kill. Zephon had pricked a nerve.

"Probably. But maybe not. I guess you really didn't love her that much, huh."

"Are you trying to talk me out of killing you?"

"Come on, SeeD, I've more respect for you than that. We both know I'm not walking out of here. I'm just trying to make to you feel less good about it."

"You can't make me feel any worse right now!"

"And killing me is going to make you feel better? As epic revenge quests go, this one's a bit disappointing. When you lose somebody important to you, it's either supposed to be by somebody powerful so you can spend time and effort hunting them down, or one faceless soldier in an army, so you can vent by killing me and anyone who vaguely resembles me. The sense of achievement is important, an easy target takes all the fun out of it. So, what are you going to do, SeeD?"

"I'm going to kill you." A statement of fact. Emotionless.

'_It's time to end this, right here, right now.'_

"Alright then." Zephon raised his hands. The last time he'd fought a SeeD, he'd been disarmed in three clashes. In this situation, there was really only one thing to say.

"You want me? Come and get me!"

Under the circumstances, he had to smile. Very possibly, he was the only person to ever say that knowing both a) he would be obliged, and b) he had no hope whatsoever of surviving the ensuing confrontation. Trev would have been proud.

"Uh, yeah. That was pretty much the plan." The SeeD moved, and Zephon screamed.


	26. Negotiator

**Negotiator**

He'd been planning to back up and be evasive, Blind the SeeD, Slow him down, maybe even Confuse him. In the end, he had time for none of that. It was either block that first strike with his sword or be cut in half.

Alan had put in some training these last few months. Zephon's cheap knockoff sword shattered. So did his right forearm. The impact knocked him back ten paces into a wall, which put him beyond the range of the decapitating second strike. Through the pain, he had just enough presence of mind to cast Protect. Alan's rapier flashed into the spell, successfully blocked, but when the shockwaves reached Zephon's shattered arm they sent him into a screaming spasm. The SeeD stood back, considering, as Zephon added a Shell and a Reflect.

"Huh... you're good with pain. Smart too. I don't have Dispel stocked, a stupid oversight, but I do have Flare, which I believe goes right through Reflect. And so does Ultima. But you took a gamble that I wouldn't waste powerful spells on a random G-Soldier, and you were right. So I have to wait. In the meantime… Draw!"

His Haste vanished from his mind. That had been one of T's best finds. He growled "Sleep!"

The SeeD's eyelid flickered, but he shook off the spell.

"We know Galbadia's practices, soldier. We're all junctioned against Sleep. But just in case… Reflect!"

He had Blind, and a number of pretty decent defensive spells, but if he cast anything now, it'd come right back to him. There was only one thing to do… "Death!"

The SeeD's face froze in numb shock. Zephon giggled.

"What the…"

"I just wanted to see your face. Shame I only had one. Dad told me to keep it for emergencies. Jules was smarter than you, though, so I had to strike first."

Cradling his broken arm to his chest, Zephon smiled internally. A very small victory. He'd never had Death magic. It was illegal to stock it, even for members of the armed forces. Death magic was a way to kill anyone with absolutely no evidence left behind unless someone witnessed the act itself. Anyone caught with Death stocked was charged Accessory to Murder, under the circular but valid logic that with such harsh penalties attached to its possession, the only reason to stock the spell was if you had a killing intent. He stroked his broken arm as gently as he could with his good hand. He couldn't feel or move his fingers right now, and cool numbness was slowly spreading from his fingertips. There might be permanent damage, but that wasn't something he could worry about now.

Meanwhile, the SeeD kept drawing from his mind, Zephon boiling with hate as spells his sister had done who knew what to find were yanked out of his skull like worthless curios. Fortunately, the SeeD was most interested in the offensive status effects, but he couldn't hide anything. Everything he had was there for the taking, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. The rest of his Protects, his Hastes. His Meltdown. His Regen. All gone. Snarling futilely as his entire arm slowly went numb, there was nothing he could do as he was cleaned out. When he was depleted of all his offensive magic but the basic attack spells, and couldn't feel his arm at all, the SeeD spoke again.

"You know, you're pretty well stocked for a G-Soldier, are you related to somebody?"

"I pulled some favours. So, have you decided yet?"

"What?"

"Why you're killing me. For Jules, or for Garden. Or for yourself, maybe? Cause if it's number three, I think you're being a little unfair."

'_When you have nothing else left, all you can do is try get inside their head.' Never thought I'd have to use that bit of advice either, Dad._

"Huh?"

"It's not like I've done you any harm here, really..."

"What!" The sword flashed against the Protect, but with his arm now completely numb, it didn't hurt so much. "You have no idea how much she meant to me–"

"Oh please! In six weeks, you won't remember her name."

"Wha – What?"

"No one told you? Junctioning messes up long term memories."

"You'd say anything to throw me off my game right now."_ True._

"Where did you meet 13, Al? How long have you known each other?"

The SeeD hesitated.

"We've met before, you know. In Dollet. The ultimate hand in your TT deck is Ifrit, Shiva, Quetzalcoatl, Morpheus… And Trepie 13, Juliet. She was pretty powerful, 9944, a good defensive card, all posed with her whip and everything. Unless you lost him in the meantime, and I think you're good enough not to, you also have a card of a former Galbadian soldier called Marcus Schwert. He has hooks for hands in the photo, an 8882 card, with a slight crease on the lower left corner. Inscription at the very bottom, under the trivia box. 'Happy Birthday Dad. From T and Z (you know, your kids)'. So, you think your true love splattered all over the forest down there would remember all that and tell a stranger at random?"

Alan stepped back. "You've played cards with me before… So what?"

"You were a good player, SeeD. You said you'd placed in tournaments, although how you remembered that much I don't have a clue. That kind of player always remembers the backstory of his favourite cards. You think losing a card game to a soldier and then ripping up half a Dollet Street to kill him is a memorable event for most people?"

"I remember… Xu disciplined me for something… What was it? What was it? Damn it, you can't know this stuff!"

The SeeD turned his head away to look for answers somewhere beyond himself, and in a heartbeat Zephon was up and running. He hit full sprint in three strides. Despite all the drawing, Alan hadn't gotten around to taking his Dispels yet, and Zephon removed the barrier over the door without breaking stride. His broken arm was frozen to his chest due to his slow use of ice magic through the conversation, just enough to not activate his own Shell. An added benefit was numbness, as, high pain threshold or not he'd never have had the strength to stand with a broken arm hanging loose.

Slamming the door shut behind him, Zephon jammed the hilt shard of his sword into the jamb and cast the last of his Blizzard spells behind it. The iceballs were heavy enough that even with junctioned strength, Alan shouldn't be able to open the reinforced door. He could summon a GF and take it off its hinges, but Zephon was betting on the SeeD training to kick in and remind him that one G-Soldier with a broken arm and no worthwhile magic left wasn't worth destroying the training centre's security measures for. After successfully counting to five without dying, he knew he'd guessed right.

SeeD always did the right thing, no matter the circumstances.

His coat and bag were where he'd left them at the outer door to the training centre. Painfully pulling on the battered garment, he took the hat from his kit bag and slipped it on over his visor. It was nothing that would fool someone paying attention, but it might get him past a casual glance or two. He took a few steps forward into the hall.

A red spot danced in his eye, and he tried to blink it away. Nothing happened, and he tilted his head in confusion. A crack sounded, and his left ear peeled off like a sticking plaster, his helmet dented inwards as he hit his knees. A second shot punched into his armour just above his left hip, slowed but not stopped. Blood trickled down his leg.

Time passed. He opened his right eye. His arm was still numb, but he couldn't say the same for the bullet wounds. He hadn't lost his left eye, but all he could see was red. Wiping his eye solved that. Without moving his head, he could see the Seed cadet with the rifle perched in an alcove on the central tower, eyes still busy. Hauling himself into cover, Zephon dragged himself along the side of the hall, with his good hand, aware that the one still stuck to his chest would be screaming in pain if he could feel it. When he thought he'd gone far enough, he allowed himself to stand up. He was out of the sniper's field of vision, but still in bad shape. For some reason, he was having difficulty walking straight, and not just out of weakness. His head was bleeding, but that wasn't the main problem. Scalp wounds always bled a lot. The gut shot was trickling, more slowly, but with the bullet still in the wound, it wouldn't stop without medical attention. Professional medical attention. Which was all the way back in the other Garden. If it was available at all.

_Nothing easy, is there?_

Garden was quiet now. Deserted. There seemed to be a lot of cosmetic damage inside garden, cracked floor tiles, plaster dust, burn marks, but remarkably little actual structural damage beyond a dent or two here and there.

"This place… is really well made."

He stumbled on, good hand resting on the side of the passage to help his balance. If he came to anyone, even a cadet, he was in no position to fight them. Shit, a six year old could probably take him. But Garden was quiet. The students had discovered what it felt like to take a serious hit from a real army, and they were still coming to terms with it.

That was one other of the few advantages Galbadia had on the students. Garden were incredibly well trained, but there was no training that could prepare anyone for being spattered with the blood and brain matter of the best friend you'd spent the last ten years in the same classroom as. Galbadia, on the other hand, knew that having to wipe someone's eyeball off your shoe was no reason to stop fighting. Garden's cadets had never been taught how to lose a battle. It was easy to be trained to kill, but much more difficult to learn how to die. He stumbled on, staggering as the Gardens occasionally clashed, and came on the front gate unchallenged.

Here, the defenders were marshalled, and were handling things better. The main gate was the normal point of access, so there would have training drills for defending it before Garden took flight. Plus, the girl in charge, known only to the Galbadian army as 'Black Hair' up to now was there. Thanks to Seifer, they now knew her name to be Xu Chastein, undisputedly the best field officer in the world. Every officer to try make a stand against her had been thoroughly fought off his/her feet. She should've been posted to the quad, the defence there would've been much more coherent. With Almasy's floorplans, though, it was obvious that the gate was a natural chokepoint with no room for a decent charge, and there was only due to be feints. Caged Blood Souls mixed with the occasional SAM08G to give the attack some spine. Blood Souls lacked punch, but they ate into a defense's stock of Esuna and restorative spells, and were an effective method of softening a line before a serious thrust. But this was Xu. Good use of GFs hit as many attackers as possible. Leviathan was particularly good for throwing back attackers without creating massive structural damage. Watching a real SeeD at work, rematerializing just in time to pat her GF's nose, was enough. There was no way through here. He'd have to take his chances with the sniper.

His boots crunched on plaster as he retreated back down the corridor. Hearing noise ahead, he took a right turn into the library.

The bookshelves had been clamped in place, but at least one of them had been vibrated free of its moorings and toppled, spilling books and magazines across the floor. There was a desk to his right, but no one at it, and only a muted sobbing from further inside.

His toe brushed paper. He glanced down.

_Oh, hey, 'Revenge of Pupuran', that could be valuable. _Stuffing it in a pocket, he continued walking. Maybe there'd be an abandoned cubbyhole somewhere he could hide in.

Then a bookcase disintegrated in front of him. He tried to throw out his bound hand and failed, toppling backwards, and slipping twice on discarded books before regaining his feet. The ground cracked under his feet, and a desperate stagger sideways brought him out of range of the Thundaga. Several books caught fire, before a Water from a Different angle extinguished them. It was very neat, precise casting, with no unnecessary splashing around. That meant steam, and before there could be another attack Zephon was crouched behind the main desk.

"Matt, stop!" a girl shouted, running out of the steam. "Are you ok–" Then she registered the Galbadian helmet, and faster than he could follow his head was slammed against the desk, prompting a howl, and a shuriken's tines dug into the dark veneer either side of his neck.

"Wait right there, I'll be with you shortly," she said sweetly, turning away. _Nice pigtail._

Unless he mistook the uniform, she wasn't even a qualified SeeD. Once they got over the shell shock, this place was a force to be reckoned with. He couldn't turn his head, but as the steam cleared he caught the scent of burned flesh, and when Pigtail's frantic attempt to talk the kid down began he believed he caught the gist of it.

A SeeD cadet –a boy of ten or twelve, had lost his nerve at the main defence and fled with his little brother… an eight year old, too young for junctions. He'd decided to hide the place he'd always felt safest, the library. Whereupon when the garden's had clashed, one of the shelves had broken free of its clamps, and toppled…landing on the unjunctioned eight year old. Pigtail, the resident librarian had lifted it off him, but there'd been broken ribs, and he was slowly dying. Pigtail couldn't leave her post to get help, and the eldest cadet wouldn't leave his brother… And believing that the Galbadian army was coming to kill them all, the elder cadet had ripped a power socket out of the wall and junctioned Thunder to Elem-Absorb.

It was a brave gesture, but futile. If the Galbadian army got this far, they'd lose a couple of soldiers and then leave him alone until they found a means to cut the power. Or they'd just leave him to starve. Even pigtail could have come up with something, if she'd been willing to harm the poor deluded kid.

He'd heard enough. "Sleep!" he whispered, targeting the sound of crying through the steam and smoke.

"Silence!" came from Pigtail instantly, and cotton wool filled his throat. Then 'Float!' cast at the unconscious now junior classman, and noise of exertion as the smoke slowly cleared and Pigtail dragged them away from the power socket. Zephon, still pinned to the desk, waved one hand to attract her attention. If SeeD were half as well trained as he thought they were, they'd know their most common enemy's handsigns.

**I need medic. You Guard, can't desert. Bring wounded to medic.**

"And why should I trust you? Esuna, but if you try and cast, you'll be dead before you finish."

He didn't doubt her.

"I'm gutshot. I'll need them to get to your infirmary. Will your Doc treat me if kill kids in front of her?"

"… There's that." But she hesitated.

"_Please,_ damn it! I made a promise to get home alive."

Pigtail looked amused. "Then you shouldn't have joined the army."

He spat at her and missed. "I shouldn't have expected a fucking SeeD to understand. You don't have anyone who'll care if you die."

Pigtail blinked "There's… someone."

At her tone, he grinned. "A SeeD? You think they're still alive? Optimist."

Indrawn breath.

_Gotcha. Now quick, build a link, build a link._ "I have someone out there too. Or, at least I think I do." _She trusted me enough to share a dorm the night before a battle. That's not nothing. But… _ "Of course, she's probably dead by now. SeeDs never did do mercy very well." '_I have a family'. The most cowardly, pathetic plea for mercy there is. Because only orphans and loners deserve to die. But if it works..._

"Draw!" She took all his remaining spells, leaving him empty headed. He was almost used to it by now, and barely growled. Then she pulled the Shuriken from the desk pausing only to examine his dogtags.

"You know where the infirmary is?"

He nodded. He knew Seifer's floorplans by heart. The Shuriken flashed back into place.

"If they don't get there, I will find you. And if I can't find you, Zephon Schwert, I will ask Xu to dig into the G-Army Records and find those people you're so worried about. I keep a diary, so junctions won't make me forget it."

"Deal." He was sick of threats, but he needed medical attention fast. "You think I'm going to kill a twelve year old for the fun of it, with one arm and no magic, in the middle of a hostile fortress? You think I'd even be able to? They're SeeD trained!"

The junior classman was a wreck, every breath frothing and his body charred black from too close proximity to his brother. But he was still alive. And if he got medical attention quickly enough, he'd live, probably. The elder was not unscathed. His junctions had prevented him from being damaged by the shock, but not heat, and the fingers of his right hand were melted together into one amorphous lump where they'd been wrapped around the wires. Good. He'd be less likely to make any trouble. Pigtail flicked his forehead, and he opened his eyes.

"What–"

"Shh, Matt. We've got to get Terry to Doctor Kadawoki, and I'm going to need your help, okay?"

"So… You're going to help me carry him?"

"No… we're going to need help with that." Matt looked up, and saw Zephon. His coat concealed his armour, but he'd lost his hat, and the dented Galbadian helmet was unmistakeable.

"You want me to get help from _him?"_

"Do you want Terry to live or not?"

The twelve year old hooked an arm around his unconscious brother's shoulder, and fixed Zephon with a glare.

"I'll be watching you."

"Of course." Pigtail helped Zephon hook the eight year old's other arm around his shoulder, and wrapped a yellow uniform scarf around Zephon's head, With the blood spattering his coat, it might stand up to a casual glance. It wasn't best medical practice, but they had to get him to the infirmary somehow.

They made slow progress, mostly due to Zephon's skewed balance and throbbing bullet wound.

"You do the talking, if there is any." Zephon told the cadet once they were outside the door. A DC accent would betray his disguise instantly.

The boy turned to him. "And why should I protect you?"

Zephon sighed, and drew his chef's knife with his good hand, laying the flat against their burden's throat.

"You know what a Tonberry is?"

"You…"

"Calm, down, I'm not going to hurt him… unless I don't get to the infirmary alive, or somebody attacks in the meantime. Everything will be fine. Promise."

"Galbadians… You don't play fair!"

"Fair? Tell you what… dejunction, ditch your magic and tie one hand behind your back, and we'll see who'd win a fair fight." Zephon had no intention of complying, not least because he'd probably lose. But thankfully, the SeeD cadet valued his brother's life over his own honour.

When this is over, I'll kill you." _Threats, again._

"If I'm still alive, you're welcome to. I won't be able to stop you. I've no real magic left and only one good arm."

The cadet glowered, but kept walking, lending support when brother or soldier staggered. Zephon kept his head down and eyes alert, coiled to spring if the twelve year old moved a hair. At that age, he'd have been itching for a chance to be a hero if the knife was to his throat, but wouldn't risk his brother. But nothing happened, and before long, they were at the main gate, where another feint was underway. No one challenged them. Actually, when they saw Zephon's bloodstained empty sleeve, several people pointedly looked away. Matt persuaded the defenders that they didn't need assistance, and they were allowed to keep moving towards the infirmary.

Glass crunched in the corridors in front of the infirmary. There were four guards on the door. No ordinary SeeDs, these. They were far too calm, and moved into position when they saw people approaching without speech or handsigns. If an army charged this door, they'd pay for every step. If they saw where his hand was…

"Stop!"

Zephon felt himself freeze. Twelve year old lunged, and was frozen as well. One guard came forward, roughly searched the junior classman despite his moans, and then pulled him aside and yanked open Zephon's coat. Saw his armour. She drew back a blade.

The infirmary door opened. "What's going on?" A woman with glasses and a doctor's coat. The. SeeD pulled both Zephon's arms out and behind them, the frozen arm coming free with a wet sucking noise. He would have burst into tears if he could move.

The Doctor watched him. "Huh. What did you want?"

The guard stepped between the infirmary door and the fallen soldier. "Doctor–"

"I'm not talking to you. Slow."

"I've… been… sh….shot… Thought…. I'd trade…..Life for life…"

The blurry figure exhaled. "I'm not allowed to discriminate. Bring him."

He never saw the Sleep coming.

000000

When he opened his eyes, the infirmary was quiet. He was armoured, with a section cut away to reach the bullet wound, but his helmet was missing. The Doctor was pointing a needle gun at him.

"I've been around a long time, soldier. These are diamond tipped spikes marinated in Marlboro venom. There's not a single organic being on this planet that this won't bring down. Make trouble, and you'll regret it."

"I'm not stupid, Doc." He glanced around. There was another bed beside the one he was handcuffed to, with the two cadets from the library side by side in it, but the infirmary was otherwise quiet.

"I'd have thought you'd be busier."

The Doctor growled. "SeeDs. They're not used to having access to me in the field, so they're trained to make do with anything less than a missing arm. Speaking of which… wrapping your hand in ice? Bad idea. You're probably never going to have full use of it again, there's significant nerve damage from all the jolts and running around."

A pause.

"Huh… you took that well."

"Arm for a life? Fair trade."

"Galbadians… Anyway, I stitched your wound and took out the bullet, it's here if you want it, some people do. I'd recommend bed rest, if I thought you'd take it. By rights you need a blood transfusion, but I'm not that well stocked, and you're not a student, after all…"

Zephon had to laugh. Not completely impartial, then. Better than he'd a right to expect, though. His broken arm was wrapped in a cast and was now in a sling. He still couldn't move his fingers, but he was feeling much better than he had. Time to go back to work.

"Is there another way out of here?"

The Doctor turned, eyes hard. "And why would I let you leave?"

"Doc… how long have you been working here?"

"…Over ten years. What difference does that–"

"Have you ever treated a live prisoner before?"

The Doctor looked away. "There's a vent near the end of your bed. I'll go sit with my other patients …armed… for ten minutes. Then I call the guards, and if you're still in sight, you're dead. And I'm keeping one with me, so don't even think about hiding and coming back to ambush me."

"With one arm and no magic? What about my knife?"

"You really think I'm going to give that back?"

"My Dad gave it to me… Please… He'll kill me if I lose it, he nearly died to find it."

The Doctor sighed, reached into a drawer, and placed the knife on her desk. "I'm not much good at this spy bullshit, am I? Ten minutes."

"One more thing…"

"What!"

"Sign my cast?"

000000

Crawling through a vent one handed wasn't easy, but it was amazing what you could do under the right kind of pressure. He came out back in the hall.

Garden was deathly silent. The central structure remained almost intact even now, but anything that could be damaged was. His boots echoed in Garden's main corridor, staggering three steps to the side for every two forward, but he met nobody. He slowed down, waiting for a challenge, but none came and passed back into the quad as silently as possible.

Here, there was noise. Moans, whispers… the occasional sob. SeeDs ministering to wounded cadets, or just sitting in clumps holding their heads. Few even looked up as his footsteps passed over cracked tiles, and no one looked further than the grey coat. Still, he was uneasy enough to move into the shrubbery – considerably more tattered than it had been when he'd first arrived. There was smoke hanging in the air from the various mage detonations and explosives, and he stepped through the trees mostly unscathed, until a new noise reached him. Not a wail, slow, measured counting, although the voice was nearly ready to crack. Ghosting closer, he made out a junior classman, a girl of eight or nine, trying to resuscitate two people at once with tears streaming down her face. Against his better judgement, he moved closer.

"You know that won't work, right?"

Her head snapped up at his accent, but she didn't stop pumping. Well trained.

"I'm serious. You can't resuscitate someone through a stab vest. And that leg wound won't stop bleeding by itself. You'll need help, or they both die. Start shouting 'Medic!' or 'Help!' or something. You're not on enemy territory, it's okay to draw attention to yourself."

The girl eyed him warily, but didn't move beyond the rhythmic chest pumps.

"Go on. Shout!"

Silence. She'd even stopped counting.

"Oh, fuck it. MEDIC! MEDIC!" And he turned and ran, slipping and sliding on soil, but eager to get away before someone came to investigate a distinctly Galbadian military distress call. If he was lucky, it would pull SeeDs out of his path.

Before long, he came up against a barricade, built of upturned bikes and general debris, but solid. If SeeD were on the other side, he was dead, but it was his only way out of Garden, and with at least two of its personnel howling for his blood, he wasn't eager to hang around.

Shrugging out of his grey coat, he left the now tattered garment where it lay and raised his hand, openly approaching. A scope flashed, and then a bullet punched into a tile beside his left toe.

"Name and campaigns?" Completely neutral, accentless voice.

"Zephon Schwert, DDT, DEF, DCP, LCR, OWG.

"How many bus routes in DC?"

"Aw , come on, anyone who has been there knows that. 22."

"What was the last thing General Roce said before we launched?"

"Trick question. He never addressed us directly." Rumour had it the General hadn't left his room since the journey began, suffering severely from flashbacks from his last trip to Centra. All the logistics had been left to his subordinates.

"Alright, one more… What's your father's middle name?"

"What? Simon."

The soldier extended a hand to lift him over the barricade. "Welcome back."

"What would you have done if I'd been from Winhill?"

"Then the army wouldn't miss you anyway. Nice cast. How'd you get it?"

"I sweet talked the school doc. Nice woman. Hope she's still alive. But… how've things been going here?"

He looked around. Blueclad soldiers were everywhere, repairing bikes, bandaging shrapnel wounds, eating rations, or simply sitting in clumps, waiting. There were several dozen blanket wrapped bundles near the buildings edge where they wouldn't get underfoot.

"Phenomenal. We lost most of the first wave, but they didn't go down easy or quick, and the SeeDs ended up having to use a lot of pretty tough magic. The battle didn't really finish until some idiot cadet cast Quake, which put an end to things but also hit about forty of the home team. When our second wave hit, the one really well stocked with status effects, the cadets broke rather than face us, and the SeeDs were carried along with the tide. Rather than push into a bottleneck, we raised a barricade."

"Hasn't there been counters?"

"A few. But c'mere, lemme show you something." They moved back further towards the edge of the quad, where a jagged scar in Garden's body proved that despite all appearances all the Clashing had actually achieved a small degree of damage. With his balance problem, Zephon was leery of going to close to the edge, but was eventually persuaded to look down.

"What the hell?"

"Crazy, isn't it? She must be junctioned, or she'd have been shaken off by now. Of course, nobody wants to report her dead to her dad, so we sent down some industrial clamps to help her hold on, on condition that she doesn't try climb. Thing is, the SeeDs don't know she'll be able to cling, so they can't throw GFs or destructive magic at us. They've tried to counter twice, and every time we threw them back with destructive spells. She must be worth a lot of money to them."

"Shit… What kind of spells?"

The soldier smiled.

"See for yourself…" He pointed.

Five stone SeeDs stood nearby, a full squad. Petrified, and if close attention was paid it was possible to see that they had been hit with Pain first. Probably the whole second wave had been ordered to neutralise one squad. Every now and again, a soldier would walk up to the statues and stroke them. Zephon glanced at his rescuer, who grinned.

"Yep. We're stocked to the gills with SeeD's own magic, the kind even they can't just shrug off."

Silence, for several heartbeats. Then the soldier grinned.

"They're all yours."

Zephon moved close, raising his good hand to brush the nearest stone forehead. It had been pillaged, but anything was better than an empty head.

_Triple? Useless alone, but I'll take it._

The SeeD's consciousness was fighting him, but there wasn't a lot it could do.

_Firaga, that could come in handy. _

_Meltdown? Sure, I'll take it._

_Ooh, Flare. How did everyone miss that?_

_Float, won't do me any harm, I guess._

And then deep in the recesses of the SeeD's mind… He resisted, but was exhausted from all the earlier pillaging, and Zephon's mind closed around the spell and drew it out, stumbling away from the SeeD with blood trickling from his ears, eyes, and nose but with Aura safely ensconced in his mind.

Aura was an absurdly rare spell. A single one was worth 50K on the open market. More at auction. He had to sit down with the weight of such power in his mind, until the bleeding stopped.

A couple of soldiers turned to him, but he waved them off, successfully fighting off a fit of lightheadedness. A number of dry heaves later, he sat up.

"I'm okay."

"You sure?"

"I'm fine. How about you?"

"We're doing well. Squall, he's the garrison commander, had to fight personally to repel the light thrust on the second floor."

Generally, a commander having to draw steel was an early sign of an impending defeat for his side. But SeeD were not the type to go down easily.

The PA system crackled. Garden's commander was rallying his troops. For a final push to take the fight to Galbadia.

Several soldiers stood, stretching. The commander eyed Zephon.

"They'll be coming soon." He gestured to a nearby paratrooper.

"Get him out of here."

Something struck his face, and then he was falling.


	27. Hiker

**Hiker**

Zephon didn't try to get up as the stitches in the side of his head tore free. Either he was damned, or he wasn't.

"You! You survived again! Tossed your sword and ran, like always, and now you're leaving people to die…"

"Trev…?"

"Why do you always survive? Why? Why?"

His eyes focused in time to discern Donny's jawline, just before another soldier shoved him back.

"You…"

"Me. And I'm going to die here, while cowardly bastards like you walk away unscathed, _again!_"

Zephon spat the last of his front teeth. "I really need to start wearing gumshields…"

"You think this is funny?"

"Easy, Donald. Calm. Your Dad wouldn't want to see you like this."

Donny shook off the officer's restraining arm. "He wouldn't want me dead!"

Zephon hauled himself upright. His good hand flashed out, crackling with fire, and seized Donny's throat. He'd beat incredible odds to live this long, and he didn't intend to die now.

"I've been threatened by SeeDs today, Don. I'm not going to take it from you."

"Ha! SeeDs don't threaten, they just act."

"Yeah. Think about that." The scent of burning flesh rose.

The officer took a step back, gauntlet rising. "Schwert, release him."

"In a minute. Look,Donny, I beat incredible odds to live this long. I don't want to take risks, so leave me alone or I will kill you." He opened his hand and shoved. Donny took three steps back, and dropped a hand to his sword hilt.

"But, just so we don't part on bad terms…I've something to give you." He reached with his good hand and withdrew his sheathed Chef's Knife.

"You know what this is?"

A few of the veterans nodded. "This thing gives me an instant kill on anything I come across. Dad found it after a battle, and he gave it to me to keep me safe. So far, it's worked. How do you think I got the infirmarian to treat me? It evens the odds, all the junctions are worthless if I can draw blood. Thanks to this, I'm the most dangerous person in the whole damned army."

"And how many SeeDs have you killed, coward? You threw away your sword again, I see!"

"To get close enough to use this, sure. I've killed one SeeD today, Donny. You're right, it's time I passed it on to someone who'll do better. Here."

The soldier eyed the sheathed blade like a live snake. "Why?"

"I won't pretend I ever liked you, Donny. But I don't want it to end like this. Maybe we have a chance to patch things, and this way you know I'm serious."

"I still don't like you. But I'll accept this until we can settle accounts."

"I look forward to it."

Zephon turned away. He'd killed five times before, but this was his first deliberate, premeditated murder. Donny had probably been about to die when the SeeD counterattacked, but giving him that knife made certain of it. Once SeeD realised one particular soldier could kill them at a touch, they would do whatever was necessary to be sure he was taken down hard. Donny and Pheles might have put the night of Edea's parade behind them, but Zephon had not forgotten.

The assault commander coughed.

"They're gonna come for us. With that arm, you'd better get out of here. You may be a cowardly piece of shit, but your Dad did kinda save the world, so I have to do my best to get you home safe."

"Yeah? And how many SeeDs did you kill today?"

"Two. Tell him Robin Judt sends his regards and he owes me a cigarette."

"I will."

He left for the mechs.

The pilot of one of the flying mechs beckoned him over and strapped him in. The quad dropped away beneath his feet, and he closed his eyes.

He woke up a short time later just as his feet touched grass, and barely caught himself as his head spun with the impact, throwing out his good hand to catch his balance on a tree as the mech dropped him away.

_A tree?_

"We're not in Garden?"

"Sharp eyed, aren't you? No, we're not. Garden's about to become an ugly place. SeeD are at a disadvantage as long as they're at home. Our pricks should've rattled them, but once they come out of their shell, they don't have to worry about cutting loose. This is going to get nasty."

"Because it's been so cute so far." The pilot shot him a glance. "Get out of here."

There were quite a few Galbadian uniforms waiting at the fringes of the forest, pale faces watching the Gardens clash above the grassy plain. New faces. Scout division badges."Where did you come from?"

An officer smiled. "There's some transport ships off the coast to take us all home. Now shut up and watch. Here they come."

B-Garden surged forward, slamming hard into its big brother and forcing them both towards the ground. There was a stirring from the assembled army as they seemed to be about to be pulped by the two falling Gardens, but although the two landed close enough to knock several soldiers off their feet from the reverberations, nobody was squashed. Then specks began appearing from both front gates. Now helmetless, Zephon couldn't properly zoom in to watch.

000000

Miranda watched the SeeDs bear down on them. The Galbadian army were in formation slightly more quickly, formed up not at the entrance to Garden but outside on grass, prepared to scatter at the first sign of a Summon. But there was something about those stances…

_Damn it…_ "Haste! Give me that!" she said, snatching a sword from the nearest soldier.

"What? That's mine!"

"Don't worry, there'll be plenty of replacements soon enough. Watch close." And she charged, bearing down hard on the approaching SeeDs. They could have killed her, of course, but they chose not to, correctly assuming she'd be Reflected and it'd be easier to kill her hand to hand. Picking a SeeD with a broadsword to bear down on slightly away from the front line, steering well clear of the three leaders, she bore down on her chosen target. As soon as he was in range, he swung hard. Her block intercepted the strike in time, and she had just enough time to feel her wrists snap before the vibrations from the impact reached her neck.

000000

As the officer fell, there was a ripple from the Galbadian ranks as they adjusted their stances to less direct fighting styles. They had another couple of seconds to draw breath, and then the two lines collided. Tess backed up, throwing a fireball at an oncoming cadet, while retreating. As they'd been ordered, the Galbadian line broke apart in front of the SeeDs rather than falling back, to try to make them lose track of the other squads and hesitate before unleashing their GFs. But SeeDs were SeeDs and any soldier to get in range of their weapons died. The whip wielders were particularly effective, preventing any enemies from getting in close with magic, while the barbs tore throats, hamstrings, and wrists without pause. The lead attacker, Tattoo, was unstoppable, anyone who got within ten steps of him was torn apart by hand.

Stumbling on something wet and fleshy, Tess found herself behind a lone SeeD cadet and tossed a fireball. To her surprise, the girl's braid caught and the scent of burning hair rose. There mustn't have been quite enough junctions to go around. Dodging around the girl, she found herself face to face with a full SeeD, and barely managed to duck his first swing, managing a slight gash to his thigh before the battle carried him past her. Another SeeD cadet, on his knees, too busy trying to staunch a friend's wound to care about anything else. She slashed at his neck, but was blocked by another friend, the impact sending shivers up her arms as the SeeD took a step forward for the kill. But she wouldn't leave her friends, and didn't pursue as Tess fled beyond a thrown knife that was blocked by someone else's skull en route. Another dodge, then she found herself behind a single SeeD, successfully isolated and attacked by five G-Soldiers and matching them all stroke for stroke. Blocking two perfectly co-ordinated attacks, the SeeD retreated a single step, taking slight cuts from two more swords but slicing a throat in the same moment. A second G-Soldier dropped with the first, screaming a name, and was decapitated before he hit the ground. A fireball blasted the corpses back, forcing the surviving three Galbadians to retreat and then it was three on one and no contest. Tess stepped forward to make it four, but by the time she got close two of the people she'd intended to help were dead and the third was dying, staying impaled long enough to spit frothy blood in his killer's eyes. Tess added a Blizzard, and ducked back into the melee.

"Quake!" somebody shouted, immediately triggering a frantic flurry of Float spells from both sides. Tess snatched a breath to put hers in place, and then cast a Thunder in the general direction of the caster as the ground started to heave. If the Quaker had been expecting that to greatly thin out the ranks, she would be disappointed. A lot of G-Soldiers had Float stocked today, in order to aid quick deployment from G-Garden.

A whip curled around her sword from nowhere, she let it be taken and snagged a new one from the ground, trusting the rough grip to negate the wetness of the guard. Tripping over something that moaned, she put the point of her new sword into it without looking down. A bullet sparked off the point of her shoulder, but before she could turn to see from where a massive detonation threw everyone nearby off their feet. At least one SeeD had finally taken the obvious choice. SeeDs being naturally more durable than the Galbadian army, the easy way to clear the field was to hit everyone and see who got up. Ifrit had just made his debut.

Rolling upright, Tess jabbed at a SeeD directly across from her who had lost his weapon. He stretched out a hand, and that hand spat lightning, which negated itself against her insulated crossguard. A Galbadian put a sword into the SeeD from behind, which served as a distraction even though the Garden trained soldier was too durable to be damaged much. Tess flung a hand forward, the noise of her shout lost in the melee, but the Fire Spell flashed towards her target's face to blind him long enough for her to move elsewhere. Her spell bounced from a Reflection and took her in the chest, blasting her back off her feet, where she rolled to a stop in a hollow near the base of a small hill.

000000

When the counterattack came to the quad, Donny was ready. If he was going to die today, he'd do it in a way his Dad wouldn't be ashamed of. Donald Senior had held a valley alone against five squads of Esthari elites to give civilians time to get away from an imminent bombardment. It hadn't been militarily necessary, but by that stage of the war everyone knew what Adel did to captured kids. After twelve kills, Esthar had been forced to send in one of their Cyborg officers to take him down, but at the brink of death he'd hit his Limit and sliced it in half. In the end, he'd lived to be stabbed in a Timber alleyway five years later.

He might never equal that, but with his new knife, he might still take a few with him. That cheating bastard really was incredibly cowardly, to try an appeasement like this. Even an attack on that pretty sister hadn't managed to prick him into a duel where he could be killed in self defense. Guy obviously didn't know what family meant.

The barricade was wiped out instantly by a detonation, and then the SeeDs were coming. The Galbadian officer in charge tossed off an Ultima, and the front SeeDs was knocked to their knees, but they were Shelled this time, and got right back up and kept coming. Donny leaped to meet the first, swordfighting one handed. The SeeD gave ground, plainly surprised to find himself fighting somebody not willing to roll over and die, but skilled enough not to let this distract him.

The SeeD was taking his full attention, so Donny missed the whip curling around his ankle, tearing out the tendon. The leg folded, but he dropped his shoulder and bent his knees the way they'd been taught in training, rolling into his attackers shins and jamming the Chef's Knife through the toe of his shoe. The SeeD crumpled, shin impacting hard with the G-Soldier's face and breaking his nose. One more slash with the knife felled a second SeeD, before the whip tore his arm to the bone.

_Huh. Two. Not bad._ Donny thought, just before the Firaga turned him to dust.

000000

Ezetian stuck out his foreshortened tongue at his opponent –it was surprising how often that caused somebody to hesitate– and twisted one of the swordhilts extending from his ribs. The SeeD cadet howled in pain, and Ez was able to step up and slash his throat. The cadet went down. SeeDs were not immortal, but it took four, five Galbadian lives to kill even a cadet, more for a SeeD. There'd been a few successes where someone managed to draw a SeeD off alone and corner him or her, but there were at least twelve squads of hardcore SeeDs present, and they were uncrackable. Initially they'd been very hesitant to throw out their GFs, but as the Galbadians started drawing blood, they lost their inhibitions. Even as he watched, Shiva cleared a space thirty paces wide, and only Garden uniforms got back up. It was bloody work, but the Galbadian army stayed fighting, knowing not to expect mercy from SeeD. So they closed in, and SeeD killed, and killed and killed, until they were stained to the elbows with Galbadian blood. But if there was one thing Galbadia was used to, it was fighting a losing battle against a superior foe. They didn't break. Magic bounced from Reflection in unpredictable arcs, people on both sides slipping and tripping over blood and intestines. Float spells resurfaced, and people kept fighting, skill giving way to butchery as the non junctioned tired, and a thousand armoured corpses were gradually trampled into fragments. This was barely a skirmish by the standards of the Sorceress War, but the dead still made quite a pile when they were stacked in a hundred yard radius. SeeD seemed bluntly surprised to find out that anyone could contest a battle this long, but they were far too professional to let that impede their efficiency. Until, finally, someone decided enough was enough.

"Break! Break!"

That command everyone had been waiting for. The Galbadian army turned and fled. Not a wild rout, they had enough sense to disperse so that although the GFs tore holes in their lines, the majority disengaged successfully. That was it. The Clash of the Gardens was over as a contest. Ez' had almost reached the trees when the spear took him in the back.

000000

Zephon watched from beside his tree, struck dumb with awe as the Galbadian army broke… not back into the exposed G-Garden, but away, into the relative safety of the forest. As different squad commanders made different decisions, some SeeDs slowed and turned back to the Garden, while some pursued the fleeing army. As they moved further from Garden, more and more squads broke off the pursuit, until only a handful of SeeDs kept up as far as the trees. Beside him, five engineers fired a harpoon the height and width of a man at the leading SeeD. The impact would've torn an ordinary man in half, but the SeeD stumbled to his knees, mouthing something, spitting blood, before being dragged back by the remainder of the squad for healing. The attack did blunt their enthusiasm for chasing an already routed army, however, and most turned back. Then it rained Meteor. A large chunk slammed into a lead engineer, and the transport he was in exploded. With the trees above them, it was impossible to see the meteors coming until they struck, and Zephon huddled close to his tree as the rain continued. When it was over, the SeeDs had very effectively covered their retreat, leaving the Galbadian army alone to lick their wounds.

Someone tapped Zephon's shoulder. He turned. A member of the Scout unit of the Galbadian army jerked her head at him, as the ragged remnants of the Garden attack force drifted past, many needing support, some left where they lay as vultures and crows began to settle on the abandoned battlefield.

The five soldiers began walking. For travel, the army had separated into squads, so that any pursuing SeeDs couldn't get all of them. Severely injured were left to transports, but there wasn't many of those. Usually if a SeeD attacked, you dodged or you died.

The walk was a silent one. No one wanted to draw attention, although there didn't seem to be much pursuit. SeeD had been distracted enough by Edea for the army to make a clean escape. Nonetheless, five ordinary Galbadian soldiers could be considered viable prey for most of the native wildlife, so they had to stay alert. Provided they avoided being ambushed, the Galbadians could deal with most of the native predators, (putting it to Sleep before running away was the favoured method).

Still, the forest was remarkably quiet, and soon they found out why. Gouged earth and toppled, long rotted trees, mouldering skeletons in weatherbeaten Esthari bodysuits, started to appear. Then a soldier's toe rang on metal. The squad leader's hand flashed out.

"Don't move!"

Many people might have asked questions, then, but the squad knew better, and froze. The Squad leader cast Float on the dirt, revealing that her comrade had stepped on a pale white oval with an Odicorp Logo.

"Mine." A shiver rippled through the squad. A landmine was a terrifying thing, not least because it was designed to maim, not kill. Killing a soldier took one soldier off the field. On the other hand, taking a soldier's leg from the knee neutralised three bringing him or her to safety. Of course, if you didn't have access to a medic, stepping on a mine just meant you'd have a long, slow, painful death. Even on the Galbadian continent, you still saw the occasional obituary where some kids playing hide and seek stumbled across an old one by accident.

"They're still here?"

"Why wouldn't they be? There's nobody on this continent to pick them up. If a tree falls in the forest and no one's there to hear it, does anybody give a shit?"

"Shut up." Squad leader bent down to the mine, with incredible calm. "Make sure you stay still. You move, you lose a leg, I lose my head."

"I appreciate this, Ma'am."

"Don't worry about it. Got to take care of you, don't I?"

There was a creak, and a green mound nearby twitched, and rose upward. In the last twenty years, the Esthari cyborg was somewhat the worse for wear, but it still recognised Galbadian uniforms when it saw them.

The three Galbadians free to move fanned out, stepping very carefully. The machine soldiers were one of Odicorp's better creations. Esthar's army had always been better at manufacturing equipment than training soldiers in how to use it. In the latter years of the war, Esthar had begun running out of soldiers, and Doc Odine's solution was to create mechanical soldiers that looked, talked, and acted like ordinary soldiers, except more loyal and less fragile. The only problem was, the rank and file Estharis hated having machines in their squads. After the battle of DC, many mechanical squad commanders had been found with up to five pickaxes in their back.

This particular one was very much active, although twenty years of weathering had torn away a lot of the armoured bodysuit to lay bare its synthetic frame. The shotgun barrel snapped towards the pathfinder squad commander. She didn't have time to move. Something brown and furry spilled from the end of the barrel and ran up a tree. The machine paused, tried to fire again, and settled into a sword stance.

"Meltdown!" Zephon shouted, and ducked behind a tree without stopping to watch his spell take effect. The machine threw its pickaxe sword shotgun in an arc, forcing him to dive aside, but rather than returning to its wielder as the swords usually did, the weapon bounced off the tree and landed in the dirt.

Staggered fire spells from all five soldiers set the machine's moss coating alight. It took a slow step forward in spite of the flames, now focused on the still crouching squad leader. The two other soldiers charged, a display of swordwork to shame Ker, but barely dealing damage against the battered weapon. Some of its armour began to melt, but the machine kept coming.

The machine, unarmed now, but still deadly, took a step forward. The moss coat burned away, dealing damage, but the fire exhausted its fuel and died.

"Flare!" Zephon said from the ground, mentally kicking himself for wasting such an epic spell on a random encounter. The Esthari android was cleanly blasted apart.

The two who'd been fighting it turned, swords raised. The tips of their blades were glowing red.

"A warning would have been nice."

"Sorry." He levered himself to his feet, and felt something wet slide down his thigh.

"Shit… my stitches are leaking."

The squad leader glanced up. "We can't hang around, the boats won't wait forever. Alright, Cal, step off. I think this is an artillery mine, you aren't heavy enough to trigger it."

"Artillery mine? In a forest?"

"Some of these trees are younger than they look." She backed off three steps. "Alright, move. One, two, three!"

The soldier took a step. Nothing happened. They breathed out. The Squad leader glanced at Zephon.

"We can't wait…"

"…Alright. I'll catch up."

"No. You won't. We could use some of that magic, you know…"

"Firaga!" A tree exploded to matchsticks. "Wanna try and take it?"

Faster than he could follow, there was a knife at his throat.

"We could. But we won't. C'mon guys."

And then he was alone. "Shit." He urgently needed to deal with that wound, he'd already lost too much blood. But just removing his armour to access it was agonising, and when he used fire magic to cauterise the wound he fainted.

He woke up to a dull throbbing from his wound. Better still, the numbing effect of freezing his arm had finally worn off, and he had to fight a scream with every step. He stopped to pillage a vacuum sealed ration pack from a long dead Esthari soldier, but although military rations were made to last, twenty years was a long time, and he vomited it up half an hour later. After how painful it had been to get the thing down with his teeth missing, he kept himself to water thereafter. But a sick stomach remained, and he staggered on, losing all sense of direction but keeping moving anyway, knowing if he stopped he wouldn't be able to keep going. At some point a crow noticed him and began fluttering along in his wake. He tossed a fireball at it, but the bird calmly croaked, and his Fire bounced from a magical Shell. He sped up, no longer bothering with discretion, frying any wildlife to challenge him with the Firagas stocked in his skull, leaving a few minor forest fires in his wake.

By this point he was completely lost, weakening rapidly with green spots creeping in from the edge of his vision and a sick stomach threatening to stop him in his tracks. He staggered on, taking three steps to one side for every one forward, only his regularly replenished Float spell keeping him off the landmines. Just as he was at the end of his strength, he caught a flash of red through the trees and broke into a run.

"Sir! Ma'am! Wait!" He picked up speed, running as hard as he could, until his Float spell abruptly died, he tripped on a root, and tumbled into the base of a tree. His arm howled at him, but he dragged himself to his feet.

A Galbadian skeleton was sitting with its back to a tree, one hand pressed to a scrap of bandage wrapped around its thigh, the other resting on a long range radio just to its right. Zephon let himself slide down the tree he was leaning against. There was a date carved on the tree above the helmeted skull, and an inscription. He wanted to move to investigate, but found he couldn't get up. Fortunately, he could just about read it from where he was sitting.

'**You're late.'**

"Sorry, sir or ma'am. Wish someone had been here sooner, but sometimes that's just how it is. Not the rescuer you were expecting, huh. I've basically been dying by instalments for months, I'm just surprised I didn't lose a leg to a landmine today."

He took a breath, then laughed.

"This is it, I guess. Nobody's gonna care enough to come looking for me, and even if they do, they've half a continent to search. So, you had time to write yourself an epitaph, huh? Maybe I should do one too. For the sake of symmetry or something." The crow, still nearby, fluttered down.

"Heheheh… I take it you agree. I won't begrudge you my eyes, but if you wait til I'm actually dead, I'd appreciate it. So, not carpet, then. Tess, I owe you a hug if you're still alive. Let's see, what am I to do with all this time? Catalogue my regrets? Flash my life before my eyes? Shame to waste all these kickass spells. Firaga!"

A tree was blasted to splinters. The crow took flight, but settled down almost instantly.

"Brave little critter, aren't you? Firaga!"

He cast spells until every tree within his sight within fifty paces was splinters, except the one directly across from him where the other soldier sat.

"Sorry about this. I didn't like the view. Was it much different in your time?"

The skeleton said nothing.

"Let's see, regrets… Honestly, no, not really. Galbadian army up against SeeD , it's not really going to end any other way. I wonder if I'll come back as a Forbidden, that'd be kinda funny. Anyway, T will get paid, and she'll take care of Dad, so it won't be all bad. Sorry I was late, sir, somebody to talk to right now would've been nice, don't you think? I mean, I'm talking to somebody who has been dead… how long?"

He looked closer at the date. "No…" It was dated five years after the last Galbadian withdrawals from Centra.

Zephon tried to imagine what someone's life would be like, wandering a desolate continent alone for years, and failed. And that radio… of course, s/he wouldn't know that the interference was worldwide, so s/he'd wander trying to find a local signal jammer or taking apart the radio and rebuilding it from scratch in an effort to find whatever was interfering with the damned reception, holding onto a hope that one day you'd be able to hear another human voice on it.

He was crying, he realised. At least he was cleanly dying, more or less. Although, bloodloss was his only real injury, so if he survived to heal and avoided infection (not much chance of that), he might even survive. He didn't know where he'd go from there, but he seemed to be dying pretty well here and now.

_Oh. That's not a bad epitaph._

He ignited his right palm and brought it to the tree trunk he was leaning against to etch into the bark. He couldn't see what he was writing, but he'd done it enough times before to be sure he wouldn't make a mistake. When he let his hand fall, there was a message above his head, so that on the off chance that somebody else stumbled across this little scene, they'd be greeted by his last words.

'**I was here'.**


	28. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

On the bridge of the _GMS Behemoth_, General Roce lifted his mask to scratch at his forehead. Last time he'd been in this part of the world, he'd been a raw lieutenant who'd watched most of his best friends die, and he'd sworn never to come back. And now he was part of breeding the next generation of embittered, bloody veterans. Total losses so far had come in at 1878 lives, just under half of the command he'd brought. Against any other force but SeeD, that would be an utter disaster, but while it was more than he'd hoped, the figure was less than he'd feared.

The Galbadians had lost the battle. But then, they could never really have beaten SeeD. Which was why they'd never been intended to. Two initial waves, to make the SeeDs angry, then a battle _between_ the Gardens. A serious assault from Galbadia would've involved something more like thirty or so X-ATMs through the main gate. When the Galbadians inevitably lost, they retreated not back into their own Garden where a siege could develop, but away into the forest, splitting the enemy forces long enough to be able to disengage relatively intact. SeeD would naturally prioritise G-Garden over pursuing an already routed army. G-Garden would be lousy with monsters at this point, which would delay SeeD, but the Galbadian army had just shoved two hundred and fifty blood hungry SeeDs down Edea's throat. If she didn't choke on that, nothing could stop her. The military had managed to come up with a plan in which they couldn't possibly lose, so long as they could avoid being killed to the last man. The worst case scenario was that Edea somehow suborned all of SeeD to her will, but even that would only unite the entire world against her, not to mention close the generation gap in the Galbadian army.

The apparent abject failure would hit morale hard, but SeeDs command would eventually realise that the Galbadian army hadn't struck them nearly as hard as they could have chosen to. And SeeD would understand the message.

_We're capable of more, and we know where to find you now. Here, chew on the sorceress, and leave us the fuck alone, or be prepared to face the consequences._

Threat, peace offering, show of force, and warning, all rolled up into a neat, bloody little package.

_Now I'll find out if it was worth it or not…_

There was a flash of white in the trees, and the General tapped his visor to zoom in.

"Looks like Seifer made it." He was in bad shape, basically being carried by that friend with the staff. A nearby engineer sighted down the length of a Gatling gun. "Sir?"

General Roce hesitated, then shook his head. "Not yet."

A rowboat –admittedly low tech, but reliable. Galbadia had never really been a naval power– soon brought Seifer, Raijin, and Fujin aboard. They didn't delay in reporting to him.

"You failed, General."

"Where's Edea? I should apologise in person."

Almasy shook his head slightly, a gash across one cheek tearing with the movement.

_Yes! _"I'm sorry to hear that her protection was inadequate, Sorceress' Knight." Almasy's face twisted.

"Yes… your army broke like the chickens they always were. Why shouldn't I kill you now?"

"Adel used to do that, as I recall. Not the best way build loyalty. Also, we know where Ellone is. Now, no one ever gave us a description, but a girl the right age in an unknown vessel that was willing to throw herself on the mercy of Esthar to get away from us sounds pretty suggestive."

"Why didn't you engage?"

"Because that would involve starting a war, and the captain refused to go down in history as opening that can of worms again. If Ellone's in Esthar, she's out of reach, Commander. There'll be a mutiny if you even suggest an invasion._ I guarantee it."_

"When did you grow a spine?"

"Amazing what you can find if you need it."

Seifer scrubbed at his jaw.

"No war. Not after this. I was thinking of doing a construction project. Maybe your armies can handle _that._"

000000

In the Galbadian Press Office in Deling City, the department head set down the page in his hand. He looked up at his subordinates.

"Alright, the army's done their part, the next move belongs to us. Print all of the gory detail, the army will take a beating, but anyone can see the smoking crater where the missile base used to be, we're not attacking innocents."

There was more than one way to fight a war.

000000

Thrustaevis glanced up at the knock. There was nobody expected. Glancing through the porthole, she noted a pair of unfamiliar uniformed soldiers and an envelope.

She took a breath, counted to five, and opened the door.

000000

Rose Misin put down the newpaper, and picked up a pen.

_Dear Headmaster Cid,_

_When I sent my son to you for a military education, a full scale pitched battle with the Galbadian military was not what I meant. I am henceforth withdrawing him from Garden with immediate effect…_

000000

**Several weeks later…**

Kersan Kamalian broke off from shooting fireballs into the pond at a footfall behind her.

"Who's there?"

"A friend."

"...All my friends are dead."

"Then a friend of a friend."

Pause.

"You're… Thrustaevis, right?"

"That's right."

"I'm sorry about your brother. When he wasn't depressed or angry, he wasn't a bad guy."

"Yeah." Pause. "I guess I should have got him some better magic."

Kersan stood. "It doesn't work like that. You can't collect a hundred coins and earn an extra life. I've known people who were in my class at G-Garden, training to excel for thirteen years, go down just as easily as people who've been shouted at by a drill sarge for three weeks."

Silence. Then: "You trained at G-Garden?"

"Yep. That's why they didn't trust me to fight in the Clash. Conflicted loyalties or something."

"And were they?"

"No. Killing is killing." Ker finally turned around. "So, did you come to ask me something or did you just need a friend?"

"I've been thinking over the past few weeks… With the border to Esthar open again, Doc Odine is advertising for paid interns."

"You _want_ to be interned at OdiLabs?"

"Intern_ship, _not intern_ment._ If I can figure out how the tech works, I can buy the rights to introduce it on this continent while everyone else is waiting for the Lunar Cry to die down."

"What does your Dad say?"

"He says it's fine as long as I sabotage every project I'm assigned to. I was born in that lab, so I'm technically an Esthari citizen. They can't keep me out if they want to, and with so many dead in the Cry, they've a labour shortage anyway. B-Garden's over there now doing culls, it should be fairly safe, but I'll still need a bodyguard. So…"

"You want to subcontract me from the army? Do you have a Galbadian birth cert too?"

"Dad made sure of it. He's really a very farsighted man."

"Huh. Okay, well, personal protection shouldn't be a problem for a citizen, it's not like the Paras are overworked anyway. You are aware that I can't guarantee your safety?"

"Of course."

Ker grinned. "…Then I'm in. Let's go change the world."

* * *

_**And that's all, folks! Well, that took a long time, but I think it turned out better for the delay. I'm not quite happy with everything in it, but I still think this isn't a bad work overall. I realise that a fic this long focused on one OC soldier runs the risk of Sueness and maybe that's what happened here, but it wasn't actually my intention. I was trying to write the life of somebody ordinary, not a genius, not an imbecile, not a destroyer of worlds, not a bumbling incompetent. Don't know how well it worked. Anyway, thanks**__** to everyone who read this far, I really do appreciate it. Please review, compliments not compulsory. **_


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